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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27705737">Through the Rising Tide</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hookedonapirate/pseuds/Hookedonapirate'>Hookedonapirate</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Once Upon a Time (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bedsharing, Captain Swan - Freeform, F/M, Heartache, Love Triangle, Minor Character Death, Pining, Pregnancy, Slow Burn, forced roommates, jewelled swan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:28:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>45,003</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27705737</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hookedonapirate/pseuds/Hookedonapirate</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Jones brothers are polar opposites. Liam's the safe and honorable one, straight-laced and straight as an arrow. The good son. </p><p>Killian's the dangerous one, the bad boy with tats, leather jackets, a motorcycle and a questionable past. </p><p>The only things they have in common are panty-melting sea-blue eyes, the flat they share in Storybrooke and a rare blood type.</p><p>Oh, and apparently their taste in women.</p><p>Or rather, one woman.</p><p>Feisty.</p><p>Blonde.</p><p>Gorgeous.</p><p>Green-eyed Goddess.</p><p>Killian saw her first, but she chose his brother—the nice guy over the playboy. And even though she’s dating his brother, it doesn't make him want her any less. If that's not bad enough, she moves in with them and he has to pretend he's not completely in love with her. His life could not get any worse… </p><p>Until Liam dies in a tragic motorcycle accident.</p><p>Leaving each of them with one half of a broken heart.</p><p>Now Killian and Emma are left helping each other pick up the pieces.</p><p>Just as they're beginning to learn how to live in their new reality, another riptide pulls them further into the deep end when she finds out she's pregnant with Liam's baby.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Captain Hook | Killian Jones &amp; Emma Swan, Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan, Liam Jones/Emma Swan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>118</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So I made this post on Tumblr the other day, and then this fic happened. If you haven't seen the tags, please read them before starting this story or becoming invested because it’s very angsty. First of all, this starts out as Swan Jewel? I don't know what their ship name is or if there is an official name, but yes, Liam and Emma are in a relationship in the beginning, and I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. If you're not comfortable with that, I highly encourage you to hit the back button.</p><p>This story was inspired by Baby Mine by Kennedy Fox, and I loved the book so much and thought it was very much underrated. I’ve wanted to write a fic like this for a long time now because it’s one of my favorite tropes, but after I read that book, I just had to write my own take. Also, I made this post about a Baby Yodarita drink last year when it was trending and since the beginning of this story starts one year prior, 2019 and since Killian is a bartender, it was a perfect way to include the prompt.</p><p>The title comes from the lyrics of the song, Lay By Me by Ruben. The particular line goes like this:</p><p>"I hope you know through the rising tide<br/>That I'll be here and you can lay by my side"</p><p>If you've never heard it, I recommend giving it a listen. It's an amazing song and very fitting for this story.</p><p>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VFJbLzEtoZw</p><p>Rated Explicit for smut (including sexual fantasies, masturbation, implied and detailed sex, etc.) and language (lots of F-bombs).</p><p>P.S. In case you're unable to read the shoulder tattoo in the picture below and are wondering what it says—</p><p>"There is no happiness without tears</p><p>No life without death</p><p>And no true love without heartbreak"</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>“Late <em> again?” </em> Liam chides when Ruby waltzes into work as if everything is completely normal. As if she’s not an hour late for her shift<em>.  </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> For the third time that week. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She gives him an apologetic smile, but Killian knows she’s not actually sorry. </p><p> </p><p>He’s just wondering who she was with this time.</p><p> </p><p>“Won't happen again, boss.”</p><p> </p><p>“Damn right it won’t. This is your third warning. Next time, there will be a write-up,” he admonishes.</p><p> </p><p>Frustration creases her forehead. “Geez, would you just chill? My car broke down.”</p><p> </p><p>Liam crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes at her. “So, you mean to tell me your car has broken down three times this week?” he asks, holding up three fingers. “And on either of these occasions, you couldn’t pick up the phone and give me a heads up? Did your phone break, too?”</p><p> </p><p>She flashes him a look as though the answer to his question is obvious. “I told you my car’s a piece of junk. And I tried to call, but no one answered.”</p><p> </p><p>Killian fights off a laugh, knowing for a fact Ruby is bluffing. At least about calling tonight, since the phone hadn’t rung in the past hour. But he could easily check to see if she’d called on the other two days on the bar phone’s caller i.d. to find out for sure if he really wanted to. </p><p> </p><p> “So get a new car. Don’t you make enough from your tips and the hourly wage I pay you?”</p><p> </p><p>“I make enough from <em> my tips,” </em>she replies with a sarcastic smirk, “but I have more important things to buy.”</p><p> </p><p>Liam rolls his eyes. “Like what? More six-inch heels, low-cut tops and short skirts?”</p><p> </p><p>Ruby lets out an exasperated sigh. “How do you think I get good tips—by dressing like a Catholic schoolgirl?” She twists her lips and presses the back of her long, red-painted fingernail to her chin, pondering her own words for a second. “On second thought, that actually might bring in even more tips. Besides, you should be paying for my work clothes. Maybe then I could afford a new car.”</p><p> </p><p>Liam scoffs. “You want me to pay for your outfits?” He shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”</p><p> </p><p>Ruby's eyes widen, as though she’s shocked he declined her request. “Why not? Can’t you claim them as a work expense?”</p><p> </p><p>He nods. “Alright, fine. But if I’m paying for your work attire, then I’m choosing what you wear. Sound good to you?” he asks, knowing damn well she’ll never go for it.</p><p> </p><p>Unsurprisingly, she shakes her head. “Absolutely not. I ain’t wearing no damn polo shirt and black slacks. I like my low-cut tops and short skirts, thank you very much.”</p><p> </p><p>Liam sighs and cups his forehead in his hand to indicate she’s giving him a headache as he turns around and walks toward his office. “Just get to work, Ruby.”</p><p> </p><p>She wraps her apron around her waist and mimics his words in a mocking tone, “Just get to work, Ruby.”</p><p> </p><p>“I heard that!” Liam hollers.</p><p> </p><p>“I could be already serving customers if it weren’t for my pain in the ass boss riding me every two goddamn seconds!” she shouts, hoping he heard that too.</p><p> </p><p>Killian chuckles to himself as he rings up a customer for his drinks and hands him the change.</p><p> </p><p>“That dude seriously needs to get laid,” Ruby huffs. “Maybe then he’d back off a little.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ha! I doubt it,” Killian comments before taking another drink order.</p><p> </p><p>Ruby heads to the dining area to wait on customers. She knows Killian’s not wrong to doubt Liam’s ability to show a little mercy. He’s worked for his brother for two years, longer than anyone has ever been able to stand working for him, and he’s never once seen Liam be lenient, not even to his own brother. He runs a tight ship, and Killian doesn’t see that ever changing. Liam has owned this bar for five years and takes his job very seriously. </p><p> </p><p>Killian’s just glad he only has to work here for another six months. Or at least that’s the plan. He’s about to graduate from Storybrooke University and get his degree in engineering. As much as he enjoys working for his brother, or rather listening to his coworkers complain about his brother behind Liam’s back, he doesn’t plan on spending his entire life making drinks.</p><p> </p><p>Liam emerges from his office an hour later and announces he has to take off for a while to run some errands. Killian’s confused because this is Liam’s night to manage the bar. He dedicates the majority of his other time performing administrative tasks during the week.</p><p> </p><p>“What errands do you have to run on a Friday night?” Killian asks, his words laced with suspicion.</p><p> </p><p>“Just some errands I promised someone I’d take care of. You’re in charge while I’m gone.” He pulls on his jacket and leaves Killian behind the bar with a confused expression on his face, wondering what his brother is up to. </p><p> </p><p>Killian brushes off the thought, deciding to further question him later.</p><p> </p><p>Liam heads out the door, but not before scolding Ruby for sitting down at a table full of rowdy men, chatting (and not about the menu). She may be into women, but she flirts with customers regardless of their gender for the tips. </p><p> </p><p>Ruby curses under her breath and gets up, moving to her next table to jot down orders.</p><p> </p><p>~*~</p><p> </p><p>Emma sighs as Mary Margaret grabs her hand and pulls her into The Captain's Rum. Or more like, <em>drags her in kicking and screaming.</em> She doesn’t wish to be at this bar any more than she wanted to be at the last two. But her sister-in-law insists on the outlandish idea Emma’s going to find Mr. Perfect tonight. Or somehow get over her asshole of an ex-boyfriend after one night of drinking.</p><p> </p><p>And even though it's been two months since she left Neal and his thieving and cheating ass, and as much as she wants to get over him, Emma knows it’s not gonna happen for a while. At least not tonight.</p><p> </p><p>And yet, here she is.</p><p> </p><p>One night of drinking can’t hurt, she supposes. One night of forgetting everything. Of numbing her pain. Or so she keeps telling herself, but that could be the alcohol she’s already imbibed at the other two bars speaking.</p><p> </p><p>“So, how’s it going tonight, Rubes?” Mary Margaret asks the cocktail server once they’re seated at a booth. </p><p> </p><p>Apparently, they know each other.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, no one's tried to manhandle me yet, so it's a start.” The tall brunette with red streaks in her hair leans over the table and murmurs, “Not a <em> great </em>start, but it's a start.”</p><p> </p><p>Mary Margaret rolls her eyes and laughs as she gestures at Emma. “Rubes, this is my sister-in-law, Emma. She just moved here from New York.”</p><p> </p><p>Looking at Emma, Ruby grins and sticks out her hand. “Hi! Nice to meet you!”</p><p> </p><p>Emma gives her a polite smile and shakes her hand. “Likewise.”</p><p> </p><p>When Ruby brings the chips and cheese Mary Margaret ordered, she places them on the table along with two empty plates. Before arriving here, Mary Margaret decided they would put some food in their bellies before they added more alcohol so they wouldn't get too drunk too fast and have to head home early. Well, that was Mary Margaret’s idea at least. Emma would much rather be home in the comfort of her bedroom watching Netflix. Or rather, her brother’s and sister-in-law's guestroom they so graciously let her sleep in until she gets her own place. </p><p> </p><p>“Enjoy, ladies.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure will,” Mary Margaret beams as Ruby leaves their table. She sips on some water as she scans the bar. Probably for potential suitors she can hook her sister-in-law up with, Emma surmises. “What about him? He's cute,” Mary Margaret remarks, her eyes trained on someone behind her. </p><p> </p><p>Emma looks over her shoulder and arches a brow. “He’s cute if you’re sixteen. He looks way too young.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, he’s drinking, so he must be at least twenty-one,” Mary Margaret points out.</p><p> </p><p>“He looks sixteen, and sorry, I don’t date children.”</p><p> </p><p>“Emma, he’s not a child, probably a college student. And you act like you’re so old just because you already graduated. You’re twenty-two,” Mary Margaret points out like she’s jealous and wishes to be so young again. But she's only a few years older—the same age as David.</p><p> </p><p>Emma groans. “No, thanks.” Her last boyfriend was immature enough as it was, and he was ten years her senior. “So, tell me, how are you and my brother getting along?” Emma asks, attempting to change the subject and get her sister-in-law to avert her attention from the college boys across the room. “Sick of each other yet?”</p><p> </p><p>Mary Margaret whips her head around and scowls. “Of course not. Why would you ask such a thing?”</p><p> </p><p>Emma laughs and raises her hands in defense. “Because I knew it was the only thing that would get your attention.”</p><p> </p><p>Guilt and apology flicker in Mary Margaret’s eyes. “Sorry, Emma.” She lays her palms on the table. “David and I are just worried about you, that’s all.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma sighs, frustration creasing her forehead. “I’m fine, I promise. Neal was an ass, and honestly, him cheating on me was a good thing. I needed the wake-up call, okay? I was blinded by love. But now that we're over, I can move on with my life. That’s why I let you talk me into bar hopping.”</p><p> </p><p>A slow, hopeful smile spreads across her lips. “I know, and I’m so happy you got out of that relationship, Emma. David and I both are.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma laughs. “I know. When I landed on your door stoop, we both had to stop him from driving all the way to New York to kick Neal's ass.”</p><p> </p><p>Mary Margaret nods. “True. He’s very protective of you.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma rolls her eyes. “I know. It’s both a blessing and a curse.” She takes a sip of water as she scans the bar. It’s the first time she’s been to The Captain's Rum, and everyone is so unfamiliar to her. New York is a huge place, especially compared to Storybrooke, but in this bar, it feels like she‘s back in New York. She swears everyone in Storybrooke is here.</p><p> </p><p>Ruby returns to their table to sit and chat. And steal some of their chips, double-dipping them in the cheese. Emma fights off the urge to laugh at this as her eyes wander past Ruby’s shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Huge mistake. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The group at the bar counter disperses, revealing the most gorgeous sight she's ever seen.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Holy. Fucking. Hell.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She loses a breath when she sees what she can only describe as a fine specimen. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Good Lord. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Handsome features and such a delicious smile to accompany his perfect face as he chats with a male patron at the bar, she finds herself licking her lips.</p><p> </p><p>“What about him?” Emma manages when she’s able to find the words in her throat. </p><p> </p><p>Mary Margaret’s eyes light up before she even looks to see who Emma is staring so unabashedly at. “Who?!” She and Ruby both turn their heads, their eyes following the path of Emma’s gaze until they land on the target.</p><p> </p><p>“You mean the bartender?” Mary Margaret asks, though, to Emma’s surprise, she doesn’t seem very excited; more like disappointed.</p><p> </p><p>Emma tears her gaze away from the bartender, as much as she doesn’t want to. But she couldn’t breathe when she looked at him and she needed to come up for air. “Yeah, why not?” </p><p> </p><p>“Why not what?” Ruby asks as she looks at Emma, curiosity flashing in her big hazel eyes. “Because if you’re asking ‘why not jump his bones,’ then I can’t think of one good reason.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ruby, don’t encourage her,” Mary Margaret chides with a glare.</p><p> </p><p>Ruby frowns, confusion etched in her features. “Why not?”</p><p> </p><p>“Because… Killian is a player. Emma just broke up with her player of a boyfriend a couple of months ago. She doesn't need another one in her life.”</p><p> </p><p>“Um, excuse me, I’m right here,” Emma groans wryly. “And I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions.”</p><p> </p><p>“She’s not wrong though,” Ruby remarks. “He is a player. But a fucking hot player. Between the two of us, we’ve conquered all the women of Storybrooke.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma lifts a brow. “Does that mean what I think it means?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yep. Probably even some of the same women,” she winks, her words bearing no shame or remorse.</p><p> </p><p>“Ruby, would you stop? Besides, neither of you have <em>conquered me,</em>” Mary Margaret points out with air quotes.</p><p> </p><p>Ruby rolls her eyes. “Of course not. Prince Charming had already parked his car in your garage long ago.” She reverts her eyes to Emma. “If you’re looking for a relationship, he’s definitely not for you…” she leans over toward Emma, speaking softly, “but if you’re looking for a hookup to get over that cheating ex of yours, then he’s absolutely perfect for that. He’ll give you an orgasm sooooo hard, you’ll forget all about that scumbag. Then he’ll do it over and over again until he knows you won’t be able to walk for weeks.” Ruby grins wide. “Hell, you’ll forget your own fucking name for weeks.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma gulps, having to recover from the images Ruby implanted in her mind of the man on the other side of the bar. Once she recovers, she furrows her brows at the conclusions she’s drawn from Ruby’s graphic depictions of what a night with the handsome, dark-haired bartender would be like. “How would you know? Have you two—”</p><p> </p><p>Ruby laughs as though Emma just said the funniest thing she’s ever heard in her life. “Oh Gaaaaawwwwd, no! I don’t swing that way, honey,” she says, rising and waving off Emma’s words with a flick of her hand. “But I’ve seen the number Killian’s done on his conquests. People talk, especially the drunk, horny females who enter the bar. Plus, as I said, he’s my competition, so I have to know what he's working with… if you know what I mean,” she says with a wink.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I got it,” Emma groans as Ruby saunters away. Why do all the hot guys have to be players? </p><p> </p><p>It’s just her luck.</p><p> </p><p>Emma turns to catch another look at him. </p><p> </p><p><em> God, </em>he’s gorgeous. </p><p> </p><p>Dark, wild hair, stubble on his chin and cheeks, and a fantastic body based on what she can see from her vantage point.</p><p> </p><p>“Emma! Don’t even think about it! That man’s trouble and you know David would never approve,” Mary Margaret explains, pulling Emma from her trance.</p><p> </p><p>She turns her head, glaring at her sister-in-law. “David is <em>not </em>my father. And besides, I’m a grown-ass woman! He can’t tell me who I can or cannot date.”</p><p> </p><p>Mary Margaret gives her a motherly look. “I know, sweetie, but this man doesn’t date women, he fucks them and then sends them packing. David only wants to protect you from guys like him.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t need his protection, okay? Or yours. I’m perfectly capable of looking out for myself.” Emma stands from her seat, and she’s not sure if it’s because of the alcohol still brewing in her system, or because her sister-law has expressed disapproval from both her and David, making this man seem like a forbidden, sinful dessert she’s dying to get a taste of, even though she’ll pay for it later. But right now she doesn't give a fuck. </p><p> </p><p>She sucks in a breath and strides across the bar, ignoring Mary Margaret’s pleas and warnings.</p><p> </p><p>Her eyes are fixed on him like a magnet. He’s wearing a black v-neck that fits him like a glove and shows off a provocative amount of chest hair, his tight, firm muscles bulging as he wipes down the bar counter. His muscles aren’t inhumanly large, just big enough for her to imagine him picking her up and easily carrying her to his bedroom like she weighs nothing. Emma can feel her panties grow wet just from watching him work. </p><p> </p><p>But even though she doesn’t wish to be told who to be with, she knows she should heed her sister-in-law’s warnings.</p><p> </p><p>What would one night of fun hurt, though? She’s spent too much time holed up in her New York apartment, wallowing in self-pity and heartache after Neal hurt her. She hasn’t been with anyone since then. And maybe she’s not looking to dive into a serious relationship right now. <em> Or ever. </em>Maybe she just wants to blow off some steam. And this man looks like he can handle such a task. She’s more than willing to find out. </p><p> </p><p>Emma approaches the bar and stands in front of him, placing her hands on the counter. </p><p> </p><p>“What can I get you, lass?”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Well, fuck me sideways. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He has a British accent too?</p><p> </p><p>She knows she should run for her life, but before she can talk herself out of it, he looks up from his task, and she feels like her feet are glued to the floor. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Ho-ly hell. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He’s even more gorgeous up close.</p><p> </p><p>His arms are inked with tattoos she so badly wants to trace with her fingers, and his striking blue eyes sparkle as he stares at her, his smile showing off a set of pearly white teeth.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Well shit. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She couldn’t run away if she wanted to.</p><p> </p><p>~*~</p><p> </p><p>Killian had been running back and forth behind the bar for hours, ringing up bar patrons, making drinks and engaging in small talk. It’s a typical Friday night at The Captain’s Rum; the place is normally busy on the weekends, especially since the bar is only a stone’s throw away from the university, and tonight is no exception. It’s crowded and loud, couples are dancing, and the women are scantily clad in either tiny dresses or short tops and skirts. As he’s grabbing beers and making cocktails, the bar continues to fill and grow louder. </p><p> </p><p>He hands off drinks to a couple before moving on to the next customer. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey Jones, can I get two Blue Ribbons?” his good mate, Robin, calls over the blaring music. </p><p> </p><p>Killian chuckles and grabs the desired beers, popping off the caps before handing them over. “Taking it easy tonight?” he asks, leaning against the counter and gripping the edge of it with both hands.</p><p> </p><p>“Aye. Regina doesn’t like the hard stuff. She’s more of a wine person.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, I see.” Killian nods; he can definitely see that about Regina. He doesn't want to say this to one of his best mates, but the lass can be a little stuck up and quite bossy at times. She makes Robin happy though, so he keeps his mouth shut.</p><p> </p><p>He chats with him for a few minutes, finally getting a few minutes of reprieve. As Robin heads back to his girlfriend, Killian takes the opportunity to wipe down the bar top. But before he’s finished, someone approaches the counter. His eyes are still trained on his task, but he can’t miss the long blonde hair, pink lace and fantastic cleavage, seeing as the view is directly in front of him. “What can I get you, lass?” he asks, throwing on his most charming grin as he lifts his head.</p><p> </p><p>His smile is cemented on his face the second he looks up.</p><p> </p><p>Killian’s accustomed to seeing pretty women entering his brother’s bar and parading around in clothes that barely cover their essential parts.</p><p> </p><p>Yet nothing in the world could’ve prepared him for the woman standing in front of him on the other side of the bar counter.</p><p> </p><p>No, not <em> woman.  </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Goddess. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Emerald green eyes, soft pink lips curved into a shy smile, smooth creamy skin, long golden hair cascading over her shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Good.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> God. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She’s breathtaking.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Stunning. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“What would you recommend?” she asks in a teasing tone.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Fuck. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Her voice is that of an angel’s. Pure and sweet and innocent.</p><p> </p><p>She looks like everything he doesn’t deserve but wants every... fucking... part of.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh… I um…” he stutters, scratching nervously behind his ear. He can’t form a cohesive sentence as he looks into those hypnotizing eyes. He wants to get lost in them, <em> drown </em>in them. “What are you… what are you in the mood for, love?” he finally musters, adding another one of his signature grins. “I can make you anything your heart desires.” What he wants to say is, “I can <em>give </em>you anything your heart desires,” but even that may not be true. As gorgeous as she is, he’s afraid he wouldn’t be the man she deserves. He’s never been the guy women like to take home to their parents, anyway. He’s the guy chicks like to have around for a good time before they eventually settle into a serious relationship with Mr. Perfect. He’s definitely no Mr. Perfect, more like a Good Luck Chuck, but at the moment, he feels like he could be fucking Superman for this woman. And he's only exchanged a few words with her so far.</p><p> </p><p>She arches a brow and it’s literally the most adorable and sexiest thing he’s ever witnessed in his life.<em> “Anything?” </em>He senses a challenge in her tone. </p><p> </p><p>“Try me,” he encourages.</p><p> </p><p>She bites her bottom lip in thought.</p><p> </p><p>He lied. Now<em> that’s </em>the most adorable and sexiest thing he’s ever witnessed.</p><p> </p><p>“What if I said I wanted a Baby Yodarita?”</p><p> </p><p>He arches a brow, very much intrigued. “A Baby Yodarita? Never heard of it.”</p><p> </p><p>She laughs and the sound is music to his ears. “That's because I made up the name. But I figure it would be a green drink that looks like baby Yoda.”</p><p> </p><p>“So, I take it you’re a Star Wars fan?”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you a bartender?” </p><p> </p><p>Just as he answers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, since he’s behind the bar serving drinks, he catches her drift and flashes a smirk.</p><p> </p><p>Could this woman <em>be </em>any hotter? And yes, as he’s asking this question in his head, he’s picturing Chandler Bing and the way he would say it, emphasizing the word <em>be</em>. Gods, he hates that he knows that about Friends. He hates that he actually likes that show.</p><p> </p><p>“You don't really have to be a Star Wars fan to be a baby Yoda fan though. He's so cute, he's trending on the internet, haven't you seen?”</p><p> </p><p>He chuckles. “Aye, who hasn't?” </p><p> </p><p>She plants her hand on her hip, donning a sultry smirk. “So, are you up for the task, or not?”</p><p> </p><p>He licks his lips and leans over the bar counter, his eyes locked with hers. He wants to ask her if she fell from heaven. Or if he just died and went to heaven. But he has a feeling cheesy lines wouldn't work on a woman like her. “I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific as to what task you’re referring to, love.” But who the fuck is he kidding? There is nothing he could do for her he would consider a task. </p><p> </p><p>Only a pleasure.</p><p> </p><p>Blush paints her cheeks and she leans over, meeting him halfway until her face is mere inches from his. “I have a few in mind… but how ‘bout that drink, first?” </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Bloody. Fuck-ing. Hell. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Her voice is a mixture of sweet and seductive. He doesn’t know how she manages to pull off a combination like that. His eyes drop to her lips and he’s seriously considering kissing the holy fuck out of her over the bar counter, audience be damned. He almost groans just thinking about her soft, luscious looking lips pressed against his, but he swallows the sound before it leaves his throat.</p><p> </p><p>He lifts his eyes to hers. “Sit tight, sweetheart.” </p><p> </p><p>“Okay,” she says with a smile and takes a seat on a barstool. “Oh, and a Cosmo for my sister-in-law.”</p><p> </p><p>“Coming right up.” It takes every ounce of strength within him to pull away, but somehow he does. </p><p> </p><p>He has to take slow, deep breaths to peel his mind from the fantasies he’s already having of him and the blonde temptress watching him intently as he prepares her drink. </p><p> </p><p>~*~</p><p> </p><p>Emma snorts. She honestly didn’t think he would actually take her seriously. She was only kidding around. But he took her very seriously and eagerly accepted her challenge. And he did an amazing job.</p><p> </p><p>She stares at the green drink in amusement, impressed, to say the least. He brought it to her in a margarita glass with two lime wedges sticking out like ears. The stem is wrapped in a napkin tied with twine and clearly made to look like Baby Yoda’s coat. And there's a cocktail stick tucked into the twine like a sword. </p><p> </p><p>“Well? How did I do?” he asks, eagerly seeking her answer.</p><p> </p><p>“It's so cute,” she comments honestly. “It looks great, but does it taste as good as it looks?” As she asks that question, she’s looking up into his gorgeous eyes. And she can’t deny she’s wondering the same about him. </p><p> </p><p>Does he taste as good as he looks? </p><p> </p><p>Before she brings the glass to her lips, he puts up a finger to stop her. </p><p> </p><p>“Hold on.” He grabs a toothpick and stabs two cherries, one on each end, before sticking it into the drink, giving the baby Yoda a pair of eyes. “For the finishing touch,” he smirks.</p><p> </p><p>After she stops laughing, she takes a hesitant drink. Once she takes the first sip, her face sours and she blinks a few times as she swallows. “Wow, that’s strong.” She arches her brow, pinning him with an accusatory stare. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”</p><p> </p><p>He chuckles. “Aye, isn't that the intention?” </p><p> </p><p>She nods and grins. “This will certainly do the trick.” She rises from the stool and reaches into her back pocket, pulling out her phone case wallet, which holds her phone and money. “How much?” she asks, pulling out some cash.</p><p> </p><p>He waves off her offer. “The drinks are on me,” he says with a wink.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you sure? I don't wanna get you in trouble.”</p><p> </p><p>“Trust me, I won't get in trouble.”</p><p> </p><p>Taking his word for it, she tucks the cash into her wallet. “Thanks for the drinks, Killian.”</p><p> </p><p>He arches a sultry brow, making her heart skip a beat. “So, you’ve heard of me, but I have yet to learn your name?”</p><p> </p><p>She laughs and points at the name embroidered into his shirt. “Yours is right there.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, that,” he chuckles, a light blush tinting his cheeks as he peers down and brushes his fingers over the letters. “My boss insists we have our names displayed on our shirts.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, your boss sounds like a pain in the ass.”</p><p> </p><p>“He is, but I only have to work here for another six months. I’m graduating from SBU in the Spring.”</p><p> </p><p>She nods as a group of people approach the counter beside her. She glances over at them and shifts her gaze back to him, wishing he had more time to chat, but she knows he has to work. “It's Emma,” she makes sure to tell him before the counter becomes too overcrowded. “My name,” she clarifies, in case that wasn't obvious.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s nice to meet you, Emma,” he says sweetly, reaching over to shake her hand. When she slips her palm into his, she can feel the sparks from his touch, but instead of shaking her hand, he brings it to his lips and kisses the back of it.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Oh, God. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>This man’s lips on her skin feel like heaven and sin. She has to clench her thighs to stop the throbbing she feels between her legs.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Fuck. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She feels the loss when she pulls her hand away and sees the loss written all over his face. “Well, I should um… I should get back to my sister-in-law,” she stammers after learning how to form words again.</p><p> </p><p>He scratches behind his ear and opens his mouth to speak before closing it again like he’s nervous about something. “Of course, love.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma swallows thickly and lingers a bit, patiently waiting for him to say what’s on his mind. </p><p> </p><p>He must sense she's waiting for him because as she grabs the drinks and starts to back away from the counter, his voice stops her. “Emma?”</p><p> </p><p><em> Good Lord, </em>she loves the way her name slides off his tongue.</p><p> </p><p>She cocks a brow, hoping he's about to ask for her number. <em> Praying </em>he does. “Yes?”</p><p> </p><p>“I um… can you come back here before you leave? Say in an hour when it slows down a bit? I’d love to chat with you some more,” he says sincerely.</p><p> </p><p>Emma purses her lips like she has to mull over his question. The offer is extremely tempting. But she has something else in mind other than talking. Something involving his hands all over her body and her legs wrapped around his hips as he's plunging into her. </p><p> </p><p>And you know what? <em> Fuck it. </em></p><p> </p><p>She’s sure whatever he has in mind is exactly what she has in mind. Or at least, close to it. “Sure.”</p><p> </p><p>His eyes widen in excitement and surprise, as though he wasn't actually expecting her to say yes. “Really?”</p><p> </p><p>She flashes him her sexiest grin. “Yeah, why not? I’ll see you in an hour.”</p><p> </p><p>“See you then, love. Enjoy your drink. May the booze be with you.” </p><p> </p><p>She snorts and backs away from the counter, holding up her glass in salute before taking a sip. Their eyes are still locked before she turns around.</p><p> </p><p>As she walks away, she cranes her neck to see him still watching her, even as he's serving other customers. She winks at him and has the pleasure of witnessing that adorable pink blush coloring his cheeks and the smirk on his lips before she faces forward and heads back to Mary Margaret. </p><p> </p><p>She’s not looking forward to the lecture her sister-in-law is about to give her, but honestly, she doesn't care. She's looking forward to returning to the hot bartender, hoping to go back to his bedroom. Or the restroom. Either will do, really. As long as she gets to have him.</p><p> </p><p>After Mary Margaret is done chewing Emma out and reminding her of what a player Killian is, and after she finally realizes Emma is going to do what she wants, regardless of what anyone says, they are able to have some fun. </p><p> </p><p>Ruby keeps the drinks coming, and soon they’re tipsy enough to get up and dance among the crowd of gyrating bodies already on the dance floor. Emma glances over at the counter every now and then, and every other time, she catches Killian staring at her, sending shivers down her spine. And every time he tosses her one of his cheeky smiles, her stomach flutters with butterflies. </p><p> </p><p>Emma's thankful Mary Margaret is plastered enough to let loose and not give her any shit because she has no idea what Mary Margaret would do if Emma told her she's going back to talk to Killian. Though she has a feeling if Mary Margaret were sober, she'd do anything in her power to make sure Emma stayed away from him. </p><p> </p><p>When the time finally comes, they order an Uber, which takes much longer than expected. She helps Mary Margaret into the backseat and tells her she's staying for a bit longer and will catch another Uber when she's ready to leave. She doesn't dare mention Killian's name, or that she plans on leaving with him, for fear Mary Margaret will blabber to her brother. Because then he'll come marching into the bar on his white horse to find his sister with the bartender and embarrass the hell out of her.</p><p> </p><p>Mary Margaret's too drunk and in no shape to talk her out of anything, so Emma’s able to escape, knowing her brother will take care of his wife when she gets home. </p><p> </p><p>Emma quickly shoots David a text to let him know his wife had a few too many drinks and is on her way home in an Uber and that Emma decided to stay a little longer but will be home soon. Which is a lie. </p><p> </p><p>She hopes. </p><p> </p><p>Before the Uber drives away, Emma slips her phone into her pocket before heading back into the bar. She's fifteen minutes late, but it's not like Killian can go anywhere. He’s the bartender.</p><p> </p><p>Once inside, she takes a deep breath and tucks some hair behind her ears, a smile playing along her lips as she makes her way to the bar counter. She has no idea what exactly will happen once she reaches him, but with a face as gorgeous as his, she’s pretty sure she would let him do anything he wanted to.</p><p> </p><p>She’s also pretty sure he could help Emma get over her ex. As they say, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. And that’s exactly what she plans on doing.</p><p> </p><p>As Emma nears the counter and spots Killian, the beaming smile on her face immediately falls flat.</p><p> </p><p>And her heart <em>sinks</em>.</p><p> </p><p>A busty blonde is standing at the bar, her hand running up and down Killian’s arm, her fingers tracing his tattoos. The woman is sitting on a barstool at the opposite side of the counter in a low-cut top that leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination, and a skirt so short and tight it looks like it's been painted on. Killian’s standing in front of her, so his back is to Emma as he gives his full attention to the other blonde. It's almost time for last call, so it's now much quieter in the bar, and she's close enough to be able to hear their conversation.</p><p> </p><p>“What can I get you, love?”</p><p> </p><p>“A Tequila.”</p><p> </p><p>“Tequilas are trouble,” he says matter-of-factly.</p><p> </p><p>She moves in closer, biting her smile. “So am I,” she taunts.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m fully aware,” he replies with a chuckle. He tries to move, probably to make her Tequila, but she grabs his arm, forcing him to stay. Though, <em> forcing </em>is a bit of an overstatement; Killian doesn't seem to be putting up much of a fight. “Would you like a snack, too?”</p><p> </p><p>Mischief dances in her eyes as she licks her lips, ogling him like he’s the snack. “I’m looking at it, honey.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma feels like she's going to be sick. </p><p> </p><p>The woman leans in and bites his ear and then pulls away slightly. “Last weekend was incredible. Can’t stop thinking about having my legs wrapped around you,” she giggles.</p><p> </p><p>Jealousy stabs Emma’s gut and disappointment shoots through her like a lightning bolt, bringing her back to reality.</p><p> </p><p>Mary Margaret and Ruby were totally right. </p><p> </p><p>He’s a player. </p><p> </p><p>Unable to listen to them for another second, Emma spins on her heels and dashes out the door so fast, she almost tramples over some guys heading in at the last minute. </p><p> </p><p>She should’ve listened to the warnings, but she was too blinded by the attraction she felt for Killian. </p><p> </p><p><em> God, </em>she’s a fucking idiot. </p><p> </p><p>Why does she always fall for the dangerous guys? The ones who are bad for her? Why can’t she just find a nice guy for once? Someone safe. Someone who won’t stomp on her heart and discard it like trash without batting an eye.</p><p> </p><p>She pushes open the door, tears stinging her eyes as she runs outside into the bitter, chilly night, hoping the Uber driver hasn’t taken off yet. But it's wishful thinking because she can't think of a reason why he wouldn't have left by now.</p><p> </p><p>“Ooof.”</p><p> </p><p>The air rushes from her lungs as she slams into a tall, solid mass. </p><p> </p><p>Hands are gripping her arms to keep her from falling as apologies leave her lips. “Sorry.” She looks up at the man towering over her, Emma's eyes connecting with soft blue ones, which are full of apology. </p><p> </p><p>He flashes a warm smile, his lips framed by a light brown scruff.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m the one who should be sorry, lass. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.” </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Shit. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He has an accent too? </p><p> </p><p>What’s with all the accents in this town? She’s noticed a lot of the locals here weren’t actually born here. Or the States. She didn’t realize how much she liked men with foreign accents until tonight.</p><p> </p><p>This man continues to apologize, but he doesn’t sound very sorry. At least not for crashing into her. “I was distracted,” he says with a smirk, giving Emma the impression <em>she </em>was what he was distracted by.</p><p> </p><p>Emma tears herself from the trance she’s in and glances at the side of the road, where the Uber once was. “Shit,” she curses under her breath.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you okay?” he asks in genuine concern.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, it’s just… my ride has already left. And I’m too drunk to drive home,” she sighs.</p><p> </p><p>Before the man can respond, his phone chimes from his jacket. “Excuse me,” he says apologetically, pulling out the device. He studies whatever’s on the screen with a worried expression, then looks up at her, his mouth slightly agape.</p><p> </p><p>“Everything okay?” she asks with an arched brow, starting to shiver as a frigid wind sweeps around her.</p><p> </p><p>“Um, yeah.” He glances at his phone again before lifting his gaze. “You wouldn’t happen to be Emma, would you?”</p><p> </p><p>She freezes and just stares at him, not knowing how to answer that. Or rather, why she should answer that.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> What the hell?  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She's never seen this man before in her life, so how does he know her name? </p><p> </p><p>Her heart pounds and she wants to run, but she's afraid she’s not sober enough for that at the moment. “How do you know my name?”</p><p> </p><p>He appears to be hesitant as he holds up his phone, showing her his screen.</p><p> </p><p>Emma takes it in her hands so she can get a better look.</p><p> </p><p>Her eyes widen when she sees a text from a Nolan.</p><p> </p><p>Nolan, as in her brother? Who else with the last name, Nolan, lives with a Mary Margaret and an Emma?</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Nolan: I just received a text from Emma. She sent Mary Margaret home in an Uber and is at your bar. Can you make sure she gets home all right?</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Her blood sizzles as she rereads the message. Then she reads the texts before it, a couple in particular sticking out like sore thumbs.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Nolan: So… I have a huge favor to ask.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Me: Sure, what’s up, mate?</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Nolan: The wife and sister are going to the Rabbit Hole tonight. Emma just moved here from New York after a terrible break-up and Mary Margaret is determined to hook her up with someone.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Nolan: Think you have time to get away from work and keep an eye on my sister, make sure she doesn’t find any trouble? </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> What the actual fuck? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Why is her brother having this man spy on her?</p><p> </p><p>Emma turns around and pulls back the hand still holding the phone, about to toss the damn thing.</p><p> </p><p>“Whoa, whoa, whoa, don’t shoot the messenger, love,” he pleads. “I need my phone.”</p><p> </p><p>The endearment makes her shiver. Killian had called her love, too.</p><p> </p><p>She spins around to glare at the stranger. “David’s using you to spy on me?” she demands firmly.</p><p> </p><p>He holds up his hands in surrender. “I didn’t want to, lass, I promise, but I would’ve felt terrible if I said no and then, later on, found out something bad happened to you. I promise, I was only helping a friend and looking out for you.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma sighs and hands his phone back, knowing he’s telling the truth. She saw his responses to David’s texts and gathered he didn’t wish to put his nose where it didn’t belong or to stir up any trouble. “David always has been good at persuading people,” she grumbles.</p><p> </p><p>“Aye, especially when it comes to protecting the ones he loves,” he winks. </p><p> </p><p>“Even so, he has no business spying on me!” she states louder than intended.</p><p> </p><p>“I wholeheartedly agree,” he states adamantly, making sure to express how much he was against this whole idea, to begin with.</p><p> </p><p>Emma crosses her arms over her chest, wondering how she never saw him at the Rabbit Hole when she was there. “So, you spied on me at the Rabbit Hole?”</p><p> </p><p>He shakes his head. “No, I didn’t get the chance to. By the time I got there, you and Mary Margaret were already gone.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma shakes her head and rolls her eyes at the thought of her own brother asking someone to spy on her. But she’s not surprised. “Brothers are so annoying,” she grumbles.</p><p> </p><p>He chuckles, and the deep, hearty sound warms her heart a little, despite the chill in the air. “Agreed.”</p><p> </p><p>She arches her brow, as though to ask him to expand on why.</p><p> </p><p>“I have one of those, too. So I get it.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma’s features soften, a small smile pulling at her lips. “Older or younger?”</p><p> </p><p>“Younger. He can be quite the ponce sometimes, but at the end of the day, I’d lay down my life for him.”</p><p> </p><p>“I usually feel the same about David… and then he goes and pulls something like this,” Emma remarks bitterly.</p><p> </p><p>“I take it he does this a lot?”</p><p> </p><p>“He did when we were younger. But then I moved to New York and he came here, so we didn’t see each other very much.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, I see.”</p><p> </p><p>Another gust of wind makes her shiver and has him removing his jacket and offering it to her. Even though she’s already wearing one.</p><p> </p><p>“May I?”</p><p> </p><p>She cocks a brow. “Won’t you be cold?”</p><p> </p><p>He shrugs. “I rarely get cold.”</p><p> </p><p>She gives him a soft nod. He looks like he’d be the type of man who knows how to stay warm, and therefore knows how to keep a woman warm. He has those big, strong arms and broad shoulders, and he’s very tall. She could picture herself being buried in his warmth, but maybe because she's currently freezing her ass off. “Thanks,” she murmurs when he goes behind her and drapes the jacket over her shoulders. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s my pleasure, love.” When he’s standing in front of her again, he sticks out his hand. “The name’s Liam.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma smiles and slips her palm in his. </p><p> </p><p>She was right. He is warm. Very warm. “I think David’s mentioned your name a few times.”</p><p> </p><p>“Probably not as much as he talks about you. In fact, I feel like I already know you,” he chuckles as they break the handshake.</p><p> </p><p>“Hopefully, he had good things to say?” She almost groans at the idea of David spewing a bunch of embarrassing stories about her from when she was a kid.</p><p> </p><p>“Aye. Very good things… well, mostly,” he admits. “But who doesn’t have at least a complaint or two about their siblings?”</p><p> </p><p>She nods in agreement. “True. I complain about him all the time.”</p><p> </p><p>He grins big and wide. “I don’t doubt that.” When his smile fades a little, he scratches his head as he looks at her, hesitant to form the next words he wants to say. “Well, uh… seeing as it’s,” he checks his watch, “almost two o’clock and not getting any warmer out here, how about I give you a ride home?”</p><p> </p><p>Emma twists her lips in thought. Normally she wouldn’t even think twice about rejecting a ride from a stranger, but there’s something about this guy that tells her he’s not a serial killer or rapist. There’s something pure about him, a vast contrast to the bartender inside. That guy screamed danger and sin, but this man standing before her gives off completely different vibes. He has a warm personality, which is very refreshing, and he has honest eyes. Besides, she may not be able to stand her brother and his antics sometimes, but he's always had good taste in friends. And if David trusts Liam enough to keep tabs on his sister, then he must be trustworthy.</p><p> </p><p>So with a feeble smile, she finally answers. “Okay.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for all the responses so far, I really appreciate it! You might hate me for this next chapter though, BUT I did warn you this starts out as Liam and Emma, so be prepared to see them together. For the next chapter, we will fast forward a year later. I had originally meant chapter one and two to be the prologue, but it would’ve been too long, 11,000 words for just the prologue.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h2>
  <strong> <em>One Week Later…</em> </strong>
</h2><p> </p><p>“I’m so sorry I'm late,” Ruby apologizes profusely as she scurries across the bar and rounds the counter. “Please don't fire me,” she pleads, her words full of panic. “I promise it won't happen again.”</p><p> </p><p>Killian arches a brow, thoroughly amused as he watches her haul ass. Is Ruby Red actually worried about losing her job?</p><p> </p><p>Well, this is a first. </p><p> </p><p>Liam looks up from the paperwork in his hands and actually smiles as he waves off her words. “Don’t worry about it, Rubes.” As he turns around and casually heads into his office... he’s fucking whistling.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> What the hell? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Killian and Ruby exchange bewildered looks.</p><p> </p><p>This isn't the only time Liam has left them perplexed lately. He's been easy on his staff all week.</p><p> </p><p>The question is, what the fuck changed? </p><p> </p><p>There can only be one explanation—Liam met someone. He knows this because Liam was like this when he met his last girlfriend. Very lenient and cheerful and whistling all the time. But last time, he told Killian about her. So why hasn’t he said anything this time?</p><p> </p><p>“I think your brother is broken,” Ruby remarks.</p><p> </p><p>Killian chuckles and tosses the bar cloth over his shoulder. “Or pussy whipped.”</p><p> </p><p>Ruby furrows her brows. “I thought you said him not getting laid wasn’t the issue?”</p><p> </p><p>Killian shakes his head. “No, him not getting laid is why he’s in such a good mood.”</p><p> </p><p>Ruby’s even more perplexed, not understanding how being sex-deprived could possibly put Liam in a good mood. “Huh?”</p><p> </p><p>Killian smirks. “He met some lass, and she hasn’t put out yet. Which, being the hopeless romantic Liam is, he’s fine with, but that doesn’t mean he’s not hoping to get some.”</p><p> </p><p>Ruby rolls her eyes and walks away to begin her shift. “Why are men so fucking complicated?”</p><p> </p><p>He laughs at her words and the thought of Liam being so nice this entire week over some lass he’s smitten with. Killan’s happy for Liam, but to be honest, his brother's happiness makes him kind of bummed. Because it's reminding him of how unhappy <em> he </em> is. He’s been unhappy and kind of pissed all week. Ever since last Friday, when that angel never came back. </p><p> </p><p>He was so enchanted by her.</p><p> </p><p>He keeps asking himself why she never returned to him. He’d thought they’d had a connection, he’d thought they’d shared a moment. He’d thought she’d felt the same attraction for him he’d felt for her. Was she just leading him on? Or did she find some other bloke who gave her more attention than he could that night?</p><p> </p><p>He wishes he knew.</p><p> </p><p>Killian suffers through another evening without seeing Emma enter the bar. He keeps eyeing the door, keeps waiting for her to appear and approach him to explain herself, to supply him with some sort of explanation. But she never shows. </p><p> </p><p>The next night is no different. Same agony, different day. But this time, his brother isn't here to poke fun at and distract him from the blonde bombshell weighing on his mind.</p><p> </p><p>The dim lamp light cascades over the living room when Killian trudges through the door after three a.m. Tossing his keys on an end table, he chucks off his jacket and looks down, seeing Liam's boots laying haphazardly on the floor by the door. Which is odd because he's always yelling at Killian for leaving his shoes on the floor instead of storing them in the closet. </p><p> </p><p>Killian shakes off the thought and throws his jacket over a chair before heading to the bathroom. He always needs time to wind down after his shift, but tonight, he just wants to sleep and hopefully forget about Emma for a few goddamn hours. But in order for him to do that, there’s something he must do, first. </p><p> </p><p>He’s been unbearably hard all week from thinking about her. So as soon as he feels the hot water spraying his skin under the shower head, he wraps his hand around his cock and strokes himself, his stiff, wet flesh easily slipping through his fist. He can’t help it, though. Emma had stirred something inside him. Something he’s never felt before. </p><p> </p><p>He knows this is a bad idea, he knows he shouldn’t get this worked up over someone he’s only spoken to once. But at the moment, he’s too hard and his head’s too foggy with lust, his blood running too hot when he remembers how she’d smiled at him, how she’d bitten her bottom lip, remembers her soft curves and how fantastic her ass looked in those tight jeans and how that sexy, pink lace had clung to her breasts. He groans, needing so desperately to ease the tension before he goes completely mad. </p><p> </p><p>Pressing his free hand against the shower wall as the hot stream cascades down his back, he pumps himself harder and faster, grunting as he imagines her pretty lips on his mouth... on his chest... on his stomach... wrapped around his cock. Imagines her humming around him and growing wet from tasting him in her mouth. Imagines what her soft, silky tongue would feel like on him. Imagaines how good her pussy would feel around his cock. Imagines her on top of him, naked and writhing, her skin shimmering in the moonlight as she rode his dick. </p><p> </p><p>He can almost hear her moans and short pants in his ear as he imagines taking her breasts in his hands, squeezing firmly while he fucked her good and hard until she was screaming out his name, her walls squeezing him tight as she came all over his cock. </p><p> </p><p>His body goes rigid, a rough, drawn-out groan rippling through his throat as Emma's name tumbles from his lips. Seconds later, his hand and stomach are a hot, sticky mess as his hand stills around his pulsing length. His heart is pounding and his breath is ragged as he watches the aftermath of what he’d done disappear into the drain. </p><p> </p><p>After he washes the night away from his body (and feels the urge to touch himself again when he lathers his balls and softened cock with soap) he rinses off and steps out of the shower without giving in to more temptation. He dries off with a towel, pulls on a pair of boxers and heads to bed, feeling no shame for what he'd done in the shower. For jerking off to visions of Emma, who’s almost a complete stranger to him. He knows he should feel some kind of guilt or remorse, but right now he can’t find it within himself to feel sorry. He needed that.</p><p> </p><p>And maybe now, he’ll be able to stop thinking about her long enough to get some shut-eye.</p><p> </p><p>But it doesn’t bloody work.</p><p> </p><p>He tosses and turns, still unable to rid her from his mind, and he’s not even sure why. Well, actually he is. She was gorgeous and sexy and playful, and he’d wanted to get to know her. He’d wanted to know <em> everything </em>about her. But apparently, she hadn’t wanted the same from him. </p><p> </p><p>He’d waited over an hour for her at the bar the night he met her, and would've waited longer if not for Tina approaching him and chatting his ears off. He'd wanted to either ignore her or tell her he wasn't interested, but he didn't want to be a jackass. And when Emma never showed, he thought about taking Tina up on her offer and bringing her home in an attempt to forget about Emma. To forget about her smile or her eyes or the memorizing light surrounding her or the way she winked at him as she walked away from the bar. </p><p> </p><p>But he knew it wouldn’t be fair to Tina to be with her while thinking of another woman. He may be a dashing rapscallion, but he's still a gentleman.</p><p> </p><p>He’d seen Emma with Mary Margaret and Ruby, and he was half tempted to cash in a favor from Ruby and have her obtain Emma's number, and maybe he should've. But Emma obviously made her choice and he's afraid she would be creeped out by his advances. So he never did.</p><p> </p><p>Just as Killian is drifting off to sleep, something yanks him awake, but it's not thoughts of <em> her. </em> Rather it's…</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Thump.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Thump.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Thump. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Moaning.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Thump.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Cursing.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Thump.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Grunting.</p><p> </p><p><em> Thump</em>.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> What the actual fuck? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Liam knew Killian had a late shift tonight and yet he decided this was the night to get some action from the mysterious woman he's been seeing? </p><p> </p><p>Killian even asked Liam about her, but he completely denied it.</p><p> </p><p>“Not seeing anyone, my arse,” Killian grumbles, but even though the walls are paper-thin, he's pretty sure he can't be heard over the sounds.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Yes! Yes! Yes! Oh God, yes!”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Bloody hell. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The walls are so thin, he can hear every pant, every moan, he can hear it every goddamn time the headboard slams against the wall.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck!”</p><p> </p><p>Why now? Why wait until four in the fucking morning? Or have they been at it all night? </p><p> </p><p>Killian groans and grabs his headphones from his nightstand. He slips them on and plays some music, turning up the volume. He closes his eyes, trying to erase everything from his mind, but he can actually feel the wall rattling and he’s surprised the bed doesn’t come crashing through the drywall.</p><p> </p><p>He curses and grabs the pillow next to him, covering his face with it. He wants to pound on the wall and tell them to shut the fuck up, but he knows he deserves it. He's done the same thing, he's brought a lass to his bed while Liam was in his room, forced to listen to every sound. </p><p> </p><p>Besides, part of him wants to high-five Liam for pleasuring this woman so well and at such a late hour. He wonders how many hours they've been at it.</p><p> </p><p>He's kind of proud of Liam, actually. He just hopes this one doesn't cheat on Liam like the last girlfriend did.</p><p> </p><p>“Bloody… fucking... hell!” Liam groans loudly. </p><p> </p><p>With one final hard thud, the noises cease.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Finally. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Killian removes the pillow from his face and is soon able to get some sleep, but only for a few hours before he's awake again. </p><p> </p><p>Unable to fall back asleep, he wipes the sleep from his eyes and drags himself out of bed.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Coffee. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He's not sure if the smell wafting through the apartment is due to lack of sleep or if Liam got up and made a pot. Which would surprise him, considering all the amorous activities he engaged in last night. Killian would think he’d be exhausted after that.</p><p> </p><p>As he nears the kitchen, he can hear pots and pans clanking around, so he knows he's not imagining the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the flat.</p><p> </p><p>When he enters the kitchen, his eyes are immediately drawn to the coffee pot on the bar counter, and it almost appears to be glowing. “Thanks for making coffee,” he says appreciatively, opening the cupboard door to grab a mug. Though he's not sure he should be very appreciative, considering Liam's to blame for Killian's lack of sleep.</p><p> </p><p>He and the little vixen he had in his bed last night.</p><p> </p><p>“I barely got four hours of sleep, thanks to all the banging and screaming coming from your—” His words are frozen in midair when he turns around and sees the nearly bare ass sticking out from the refrigerator door.</p><p> </p><p>That's definitely <em> not </em> Liam.</p><p> </p><p>His girlfriend, rather.</p><p> </p><p>And she’s dressed in nothing but a pair of pink laced panties and one of Liam’s oversized dress shirts.</p><p> </p><p>Killian smirks and fills his cup before turning around and leaning against the counter, admiring the view while he sips his coffee. There's a half-naked blonde pillaging his refrigerator, but right now he couldn't give a fuck.</p><p> </p><p>He’s too busy appreciating the view, because <em> bloody hell, </em>she has a dee-lectable ass.</p><p> </p><p>Liam did good.</p><p> </p><p>It’s a good thing she’s already been claimed by his brother because otherwise, she’d be in big trouble. Or, rather, <em> not </em> a good thing. It’s quite a shame, actually.</p><p> </p><p>“What was that, babe?” The sweetest voice pulls Killian from his thoughts as she rises, carrying eggs and milk in her hands. She sets the items on the counter next to the refrigerator and turns around.</p><p> </p><p>He lifts his gaze from her pretty ass, and when his eyes meet hers... his jaw drops to the fucking floor, his face paling. He almost drops his coffee mug.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He has to blink a few times to make sure it’s actually <em>her. </em>But maybe, just maybe, he’s still sleeping, and this is all just a terrible dream.</p><p> </p><p>“Killian?”</p><p> </p><p><em> Nope. </em> He’s wide awake.</p><p> </p><p>And the woman standing in his kitchen, wearing nothing but panties and a shirt that falls just past her butt is <em> real. </em> And just like that, Killian’s hopes of being with this woman shatter into a million pieces. </p><p> </p><p>“Emma?”</p><p> </p><p>There’s a shocked expression plastered on her face, but he doubts she’s more surprised than he is right now. He had never suspected the woman making all those noises in his brother’s room to possibly be the same woman he met in the bar last week. The same woman who’s been on the forefront of his mind ever since. The same woman he’d jerked off to thoughts of only a few hours ago.</p><p> </p><p>“You two know each other?” Liam’s voice sounds through the kitchen when he enters and glances between them, seeing the recognition flickering in their eyes. He walks across the kitchen and pulls a half-naked Emma into his arms, pressing her body against his. He hadn’t even bothered to throw on any clothes either and is only in his boxers. </p><p> </p><p>“We met at the bar last week,” Emma answers, because apparently Killian lost his ability to speak. His brain is too occupied with the fact that Liam and Emma are together, their hands all over each other as she’s semi-straddling his thigh.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Well, fuck. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He just doesn't understand how this happened. How had his charm not worked on Emma like it had worked on so many women before her? And he was actually genuine with her. He wasn’t charming her just so he could get into her pants. He actually wanted to get to know her. Besides, even if he ended up taking her back to his flat, he had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to have just one night with her.</p><p> </p><p>“Is that so?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, the same night you and I met. He made me a Baby Yodarita.”</p><p> </p><p>“A Baby Yodarita?” Liam parrots, amusement obvious in his tone.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I made it up based on Baby Yoda, but Killian was happy to accept the challenge.”</p><p> </p><p>Liam chuckles and takes her chin in his hand, bringing her lips to his. “Of course he did. He’ll do anything for tips.”</p><p> </p><p>Killian balls his hand into a fist. He didn’t make her that special drink to get a tip from her. He didn’t even charge her for the damn drink.</p><p> </p><p>He wants to strangle his brother for saying that <em> and </em> for having his paws all over Emma, but he’s still trying to process what she’d said about meeting him the same night she met Liam. When had she met him? They weren’t there at the same time, so how did they meet? It must have been outside the bar.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Wait a bloody minute.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Killian’s eyes widen when something occurs to him. Was Liam the reason Emma never came back to him that night?</p><p> </p><p>Emma’s eyes dart between them when something occurs to her too. “So, this is your brother?” she asks Liam. “You said you lived with him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Aye. And I’m sorry if he startled you. I thought he’d still be sleeping.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s fine,” she assures, waving off his apology.</p><p> </p><p><em> Wait a damn minute. </em> Liam’s sorry <em> she </em>was startled? Killian was the one kept up by all the noises coming from Liam’s room.</p><p> </p><p>“And what, I don’t get an apology for being kept awake by all the noises? You do realize I can hear everything through the paper-thin walls, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Liam and Emma exchange blushing smiles, but neither of them seems apologetic. “Sorry, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other last night,” Liam comments, brushing his nose against hers. She smirks, displaying her total agreement as she caresses his cheek.</p><p> </p><p>Killian staves off a groan of disapproval. “I gathered that,” he says casually, trying not to sound completely gutted.</p><p> </p><p>“So you two must’ve met while I went on that wild goose chase David sent me on,” Liam guesses, thankfully changing the subject.</p><p> </p><p>“Wild goose chase?” Killian inquires, furrowing his brows in confusion. </p><p> </p><p>“Aye, it’s a funny story, actually.” Liam chuckles, his eyes glued to Emma as she smiles at him. He finally tears his gaze from her to look at Killian as he wraps his big hands around her little waist. “So before I left to run those errands I told you about, I received a text from David asking me to look after his little sister who was bar-hopping with his wife. So I get there and she’s nowhere to be found. Well, when I returned, I ran into this stunning angel just outside the bar,” he says, squeezing her hip and pulling her closer. “Well, I quickly find out, she’s David’s sister.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” Killian utters, still shocked by this entire set of circumstances. It made him forget little details, like the fact that Mary Margaret is her sister-in-law and therefore David is her brother.</p><p> </p><p>“Anyway, she missed her Uber, and after we started talking, I offered her a ride home,” he looks at her again, with googly eyes and a blushing smile as she gazes at him with the same love-struck expression on her face, “and the rest was history.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wait, so that’s why you left the bar that night? To spy on Emma?” Killian glances at her, a little pissed she’d put up with Liam stalking her. “And you weren’t pissed at him for that?”</p><p> </p><p>“A little, at first,” she admits shyly, “but more so at my brother for asking him to spy on me in the first place. Besides, look at this face,” she says, cupping Liam’s chin in her hand as she smiles at him. “How could I possibly be mad at a face like this?” He grins and leans in, capturing her lips with his.</p><p> </p><p>Killian wants to ask her exactly when she left the bar, but he’s afraid of what the answer would be. He stares at Liam, wondering why he never mentioned her. “So, why did you tell me you weren’t seeing anyone when I asked you about it?” Okay, and part of him is hoping to get him in trouble with her.</p><p> </p><p>But instead of looking pissed, guilt flashes in her eyes. Like she had something to do with it. </p><p> </p><p>Liam eyes his brother apologetically. “We didn’t want to tell anyone about us yet. David’s my good mate and we don’t know exactly how he’ll take the news when he finds out about us. He’s very protective of Emma, if you couldn’t already tell. So we haven’t told anyone.”</p><p> </p><p>Killian scoffs. “Since when haven’t you been able to tell me anything without worrying I wouldn’t keep your secret?”</p><p> </p><p>“I know, I know. I should’ve just told you. I shouldn’t have lied.” He gazes at Emma again, a little more serious now as he caresses her cheek. “But I could tell right away Emma was something special, and I didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize my chance to be with her.” Emma blushes and smiles as he rests his forehead against hers. “<em> Very </em> special,” he emphasizes, brushing his thumb over her button lip.</p><p> </p><p>She presses a palm against his chest. “I could tell you were, too,” she says sweetly, as though they’re having an intimate conversation. As though Killian’s not even in the room, inwardly dying inside. If only Liam knew what this was doing to his brother. </p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” Killian assures them, trying to disguise how unnerved he is that she picked Liam over him.</p><p> </p><p>Liam pulls his head back suddenly, as though he just realized something. “Wait, you mean to tell me you saw Killian first that night?” he asks her.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah… why?” she asks dubiously.</p><p> </p><p>A slow smile crawls over his lips as he looks at Killian. “Because, I think this is the first time someone has actually seen my little brother first and ended up with me, instead of the other way around.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma cocks a brow, intrigued by this. “Really?”</p><p> </p><p>Killian doesn’t even bother to correct Liam for calling him <em> little brother. </em> He’s too busy seeing red.</p><p> </p><p>“Aye. Most women prefer the bad boy type over the nice guy,” he says with a smile. “But not you. If I didn't know you were a keeper then, I sure as hell do now.” He presses the pad of his thumb against her chin and kisses her forehead. </p><p> </p><p>Killian thinks he’s going to be sick as he watches them. </p><p> </p><p>This is all wrong.</p><p> </p><p>It was supposed to be <em> him </em> taking Emma home. It was supposed to be <em> him </em> bringing her pleasure over and over again until both of them were sweaty and exhausted and yet still couldn't keep their hands off each other. It was supposed to be <em> him </em> standing in the kitchen, wrapping his arms around her half-naked body and kissing her shamelessly as his brother watched. </p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t supposed to be the other way around.</p><p> </p><p>Killian can’t get over the irony of it all. The irony of him jerking off and fantasizing about the same goddamn woman Liam was having sex with right down the hall. </p><p> </p><p>It makes him wonder how many times Liam's been in this exact position. How many times had he laid his eyes on a lass, only to come home and find her in his brother’s arms? How many times had Liam touched himself with thoughts of a woman in his head before finding out she was messing around with his brother?</p><p> </p><p>He’s not sure; all he knows is karma's a bitch.</p><p> </p><p>“I should probably start breakfast before the milk and eggs get spoiled,” Emma says when she notices the items are still on the counter.</p><p> </p><p>“I told you I would make breakfast,” Liam says as she saunters over to crack open the egg carton. </p><p> </p><p>She smirks at him over her shoulder. “You already gave me a hot breakfast in bed.”</p><p> </p><p>Liam quirks a brow. “When would I have done that? You were in my arms until you got up to use the bathroom.” </p><p> </p><p>Killian takes a sip of his coffee, grimacing as he tries to block out their conversation. They’ve only been together for a week and already act like a fucking married couple.</p><p> </p><p>“True, but before that, you gave me some delicious sausage.”</p><p> </p><p>Killian chokes on his coffee and spits it out. Do they not realize he’s still in the room?”</p><p> </p><p>“What the bloody hell, Killian?” Liam upbraids as he inspects Emma to make sure none of the coffee spilled on her. </p><p> </p><p>But Killian only got it on himself. He curtly slams the coffee mug on the counter and walks across the kitchen with clenched teeth, ripping a piece of paper towel from the roll to wipe off the coffee he spit out.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry,” Emma says after realizing she probably shouldn’t have made the sausage remark with Liam’s brother in the room.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You think? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Why are you sorry? I’m not,” Liam murmurs against her ear and grabs her hips from behind as she tries to crack some eggs into a bowl. “You can taste my sausage anytime.”</p><p> </p><p>She looks over at him and smirks. “Hmmm, I like the idea of that. But right now, it’s my turn to make you breakfast.”</p><p> </p><p>Liam growls and spins her around, picking her up like she weighs nothing, and placing her on the counter. He buries his face in the crook of her neck, gently biting her there, his words muffled against her skin as his hands slide up her thighs and under the hem of the shirt she’s wearing. “I can think of something else I’d rather eat.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> That’s it. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Killian’s going to vomit. He tosses the paper towel into the trash and storms out of the kitchen, his face probably green from how ill he’s feeling right now. </p><p> </p><p>How the bloody hell did this happen? </p><p> </p><p>“Killian.”</p><p> </p><p>The sound of his name coming from her lips causes his jaw to clench. She and Liam seemed so lovesick, Killian’s surprised they were able to tear themselves away from each other for two bloody seconds.</p><p> </p><p>When he spins around to face her, Emma’s holding his mug in her hands, her eyes flickering with apology. “You forgot this,” she says, offering it to him.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks but I can’t stomach anything at the moment,” he grumbles, sounding angrier than he had intended.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, probably so Liam can't hear her. “I didn’t know he was your brother.”</p><p> </p><p>“There’s nothing to be sorry for. It’s not like you and I were ever together,” he says bitterly as his eyes drop to the mug she’s holding. “On second thought, I’ll take that.” He grabs the coffee from Emma’s hands and gulps it down, since it’s no longer hot. Emma doesn’t speak as she stares at him, probably unsure of what to say.</p><p> </p><p>Killian lowers the mug and gives her a hard look before turning around and heading to the bathroom, deciding he needs another shower. After what he’d done in the shower while thinking of Emma and then after what he’d witnessed and heard in the kitchen, he feels filthy all over, almost as if he’s covered in slimy worms. He has to scrub himself down since he can’t scrub away the images that will now be permanently burned in his brain. </p><p> </p><p>The images of Liam and the girl Killian wants but knows he can never have.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Fuck… my… life. </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h2>
  <strong> <em>One Year Later…</em> </strong>
</h2><p> </p><p>With a sleepy groan, Emma shoots out her hand to silence the loud, annoying noise coming from her phone. “Ugh…” She drops the device on the nightstand and retreats underneath the covers, not ready to get up yet. She’s never ready to get up in the morning. She rolls over to her other side, seeking warmth from the body lying next to her. She wraps her arms around his torso and buries her face in his chest, not wanting to leave him. But she has to get ready for work. She hates the thought of leaving his arms, though. They fit so well together like this, like two puzzle pieces.</p><p> </p><p>She knows the longer she lies here like this, though, the stronger the urge to stay will be. She attempts to force herself out of bed. She kisses her sleeping boyfriend’s forehead and starts to get up. His strong arms pull her back to him, his hands latching onto her hips, pulling her on top of him so she’s straddling him. Emma emits a sleepy moan when she feels his thickness pressed against her core.</p><p> </p><p>“Where do you think you’re going, love?” he asks, his voice groggy with sleep as he wraps his arms around her to ensure she won’t leave him.</p><p> </p><p>“I have to go to work,” she groans, clearly not happy about it. When he tightens his arms around her, she wiggles in his hold and laughs, trying to free herself, but honestly, she’s not trying very hard.</p><p> </p><p>He caresses her cheek and pulls her in for a lazy kiss, his tongue sweeping into her mouth to taste her. She moans against his lips, her body tingling and molding to his as she rocks slightly against him, her arousal coating his hard length as he arches his hips into her, seeking more friction. Friction she desperately wants to give him.</p><p> </p><p>But as much as she wants to get caught up in the kiss, in the effect he has on her, as much as she wants to just give herself to him and ride him into the next world, she really has to get up and go to work. She breaks the kiss, as painful and difficult as it is. “Babe, you’re not making it easy,” she says breathlessly.</p><p> </p><p>He pouts as he looks up at her, his crystal blue eyes boring into her green ones, not making this any easier. No, the way he’s looking at her right now makes it ten times harder. </p><p> </p><p>“Sure you don’t have time for a quickie?” he begs, releasing a small groan of desperation as he palms her naked breast, brushing the pad of his thumb over her nipple, making it hard. </p><p> </p><p>“Babe, if you make me late—” Her pleas are instantly silenced when he moves his hands to her ass and squeezes, pressing her more firmly against him. </p><p> </p><p>He flashes a devilish smirk, one tainted with mischief that she only witnesses when they’re either talking about sex, having sex or about to have sex. “Then I’ll get to fuck you for the next hour.” </p><p> </p><p>Emma had actually planned on getting up, but when she feels Liam’s lips on her neck and his teeth nibbling her skin, when she feels the head of his cock at her entrance, all bets are off. A moan tumbles from her lips and soon, Liam is grabbing her hips and sliding into her. Emma sits up, placing her hands on his chest in total submission and rocks her hips back and forth, eager to have him completely buried inside of her. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, fuck, Emma. . .”</p><p> </p><p>He reaches for her breasts again and squeezes as she rides his dick. She’s so glad she’d set her alarm clock fifteen minutes early like she always does because she knows nine times out of ten, she’ll let Liam get his way. It's their morning routine.</p><p> </p><p>But she can’t help it. Her boyfriend is so irresistible. The way he flips her over, sending Emma to her back, the way he pounds into her so rough and hard like he can never get enough of her. The way he kisses her so deeply and passionately, making her head spin. The expression on his face as her walls grip his cock, the way he groans, setting her skin ablaze. And the way he’s kissing her after it’s over, both of them breathless. When he pulls out, the way he kisses every inch of her on his way to her satisfied core, his cum dripping from her entrance as she combs her fingers through his curly brown hair. The way he laps up both of their orgasms from her cunt until her walls are fluttering around his tongue. She can’t help but give in to all of it.</p><p> </p><p>Emma’s fingers clench around his hair as she screams through another incredible orgasm. “Fuck… Liam!” </p><p> </p><p>And once she's able to reassemble herself and jump out of bed before he can talk her into cuddling or going for another round, she immediately hates having to leave him. But now she must.</p><p> </p><p>Emma throws on some clothes, making sure she’s dressed appropriately in case she runs into her other roommate as she heads to the bathroom. The big, blissful smile plastered on her face instantly vanishes, though, her nose scrunching in disapproval when she steps on something and looks down, spotting a red, lacey thong on the floor outside Killian’s bedroom. A thong that is <em> not </em> her own. </p><p> </p><p>What the actual fuck? </p><p> </p><p>She grimaces and kicks the fabric aside like it’s contaminated with a deadly virus. She’s not surprised though. Disgusted, yes, but not surprised. Killian is always bringing a different woman home with him, and she and Liam always have to hear the noises coming from his bedroom. Therefore, they never feel bad when they’re going at it in their bedroom, and don’t even bother being quiet. </p><p> </p><p>Sometimes she thinks the two brothers are engaging in some sort of weird contest, trying to see who can make the woman they’re with scream the loudest. She gathers it’s a pissing contest between the two brothers to see who’s the better bloke in the sack or to see who has the bigger cock. So Emma always makes sure she’s extra loud to let Killian know just how good his brother is in the sack. And so far, none of the women Killian’s brought to his bed have outmatched her. </p><p> </p><p>Emma grins at the thought as she continues to the bathroom to relieve her bladder. She also thinks about how much things have changed since she came here to Storybrooke. She’d never meant to start a relationship with Liam, or anyone for that matter, when she’d ran into him outside his bar the night they’d met. They had exchanged phone numbers and he’d asked her out the next day, to which she’d reluctantly accepted. She was reluctant, not because she wasn't attracted to him—because <em> God, </em> she was—but because she still had a strong fortress surrounding her heart from when Neal had shattered it to pieces. But when she’d learned Liam too was cheated on by an ex, they had bonded over their heartaches, and she thought they could help each other heal. But they did so much more than that. </p><p> </p><p>Emma fell for Liam and she fell hard. He’s much like a teddy bear, only soft on the inside, not the outside. He’s kind and loving and warm and best of all, he makes her laugh. When she’d discovered how good he was in bed on top of all his amazing qualities, she thought he was too good to be true. He seemed like the total package. He <em> is </em> the total package. But still, she’d kept waiting for the other shoe to drop; it never did, though. Or at least, it hasn’t dropped. yet.</p><p> </p><p>Once she's under the shower stream, she’s wetting her hair and singing the first song that comes to mind.<em> Titanium </em> by David Guetta. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “You shout it out, but I can’t hear a word you say. . .” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>After nine years, she still sings this damn song. But it’s so perfect for the shower because the lyrics are ones she can easily belt out, the words echoing beautifully off the bathroom walls.</p><p> </p><p>She’s been singing in the shower since she was eight years old. Her brother would always pound on the bathroom door when she was taking a shower, and yell for her to stop. It was like that when they lived in the same house growing up and it was like that after she moved in with him and Mary Margaret. She has to admit, she misses annoying the hell out of her brother. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Bang, bang, bang. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Would you stop your bloody awful singing?!" Killian shouts through the door. “Some people are actually trying to sleep around here!”</p><p> </p><p>Now that she lives with Liam, she has his pain in the ass brother to annoy. As fun as that is, it’s not really the same.</p><p> </p><p>Emma doesn’t stop though. Instead, she grins to herself and lathers shampoo into her hair, closing her eyes as she makes sure to sing even louder and more obnoxious.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “You criticize, but all your bullets ricochet. Shoot me down, but I get up. . .” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Ever since she moved in with her boyfriend eight months ago, Killian has been a pesky thorn in her side. He’s been nothing but a nuisance. From leaving his dirty dishes in the sink to sleeping with a different woman almost every night to pissing her off every chance he gets. He’s always trying to bring her down, always finding new ways to push her buttons. She’s not sure exactly why it all started. Maybe because he’s held a grudge against her since she chose his brother over him. Or maybe because he thinks she’s trying to steal his brother away from him. But either way, she’s not giving him the satisfaction of letting him get to her. Or at least letting him know he gets to her. </p><p> </p><p>Emma starts shouting out the lyrics, each word louder than the previous one, purposely trying to get a rise out of him, just like he always does to her. </p><p> </p><p>“Shoot me down, but I won’t fall! I am Tit-aaaaan-iiiiiiiuuuuuum! Shoot me down, but I won’t—”</p><p> </p><p>The whine of the faucet interrupts her, and suddenly she's shivering, no longer feeling the hot water spraying her skin. What the fuck? One second she's rinsing her hair and the next, the bathroom door is slamming shut and she’s just standing there in the bathtub with shampoo dripping down her face and no water to rinse it out with. </p><p> </p><p>That damn bastard turned off the shower!</p><p> </p><p>“What the hell?!” she screeches, her words garbled when the shampoo drips into her mouth. She spits it out and spins around, blindly reaching for the towel on the rack, yanking it off the bar and wiping her face with it. “You asshole!”</p><p> </p><p>She steps out of the tub, blood bubbling under her skin as she wraps the towel around her body. Okay, pounding on the bathroom door is one thing, but shutting off the water while she’s taking a shower is a whole different level of <em> asshole </em> for Killian Jones! And she won’t stand for it. She’s not letting him get away with this.  </p><p> </p><p>She marches out of the bathroom and down the hall, leaving a dripping wet trail of soapy water behind her. But she doesn’t give a fuck at the moment. She rips his door open and storms into his room without any sort of grace. She hurries over to his alarm clock, which he leaves on his dresser across the room so he'll have to get up to turn it off. He does it so he won’t be tempted to hit the snooze button and fall back asleep. </p><p> </p><p>Killian’s in his bed with the covers over his head as Emma turns on the music and cranks up the volume. She immediately spins around and scurries out of his room, her heart hammering in her chest, but when she makes it to the doorway, she can feel his hand gripping her arm as he turns her around and presses her firmly against the wall, just outside his door.  </p><p> </p><p>She loses her breath.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t say anything at all; he just stares at her, a mixture of emotions written all over his face. She can’t tell if he’s pissed or irritated, or if the look on his face is just pure hatred for her. Or if it’s something else entirely.</p><p> </p><p>Emma gasps when he closes the gap between them until their bodies are pressed together, his face inches from hers. He still doesn’t murmur a word, just stares at her. </p><p> </p><p>She gulps when his eyes flicker over her face, and it almost seems like he’s going to. . .</p><p> </p><p>No, no, no, that can’t be. She knows for a fact she’s just imagining things, because Killian would never try to kiss her. Not only because his brother is dating her, but because he <em>hates </em>her with every fiber of his being; he’s never said it out loud, but she knows deep down he does.</p><p> </p><p>Killian’s still staring at her and she’s so stunned in her spot, she can’t even move. As his eyes move to her lips, she swears she stops breathing, her heart pounding in her ear. He hasn’t looked at her with anything apart from hatred since the night they met.</p><p> </p><p>He quickly amends his stare, his eyes snapping to hers, regret clouding his face. “I’m sorry,” he whispers huskily and releases her, dashing to his room and slamming the door behind him. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> What the hell was that? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He may have been able to move, but she feels like she’s superglued to the wall. She can still feel his palms on her wrists like he’s still pinning her, but he’s not.</p><p> </p><p>“What the bloody hell was all that racket?” </p><p> </p><p>The sound of Liam’s voice makes her heart jump into her throat, and she has to peel herself from the wall. When she does, she feels a million times lighter. She blows out a long breath. A breath she feels like she’s been holding this whole time. She turns to Liam and gets on her tiptoes as she wraps her arms around the back of his neck, kissing him chastely on the lips. “Nothing, babe, it was just your annoying brother hollering at me for singing again and telling me how awful of a singer I am.” </p><p> </p><p>“Don’t listen to him. You sing beautifully,” Liam assures her sweetly, kissing the tip of her nose. “I love your singing.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma smiles at his compliments, but her face twists at the memories of Killian turning off the water on her. “I never do listen to him, but that asshole shut off the shower on me while I was in there. And I had shampoo in my hair and it got in my eyes and mouth.”</p><p> </p><p>She can see the anger spiraling through her boyfriend, his features appalled. “He did what?!” Liam lunges toward Killian’s door, but Emma moves in front of him and places her hands on his chest to stop him. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s fine. I got him back.” She smirks. “I turned on his music and cranked up the volume. </p><p> </p><p>“I know, I could hear everything,” he grumbles, his eyes focused on Killian’s door. Emma’s still standing in front of him so he won’t go charging in there, but he manages to pound on the door. “What the fuck, Killian?! You don’t go into the bathroom while Emma’s using it! She lives here, too, you wanker!”</p><p> </p><p>“I already told her I was sorry!” he calls through the door.</p><p> </p><p>Emma furrows her brows. She thought Killian had said he was sorry for pinning her against the wall and almost kissing her. Or at least, that’s what it seemed like.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, love,” Liam murmurs, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her forehead. “My brother’s a pompous arse sometimes.”</p><p> </p><p>She can’t disagree with that. This is far from the first time Killian’s been a jerk to her and it won’t be the last. She wishes she and Liam could get a place of their own. What she wouldn’t give to be able to get up in the morning and prance around the apartment half-naked, or even naked if she so chose to be, not having to worry about annoying roommates who only stir up trouble and tell her she’s an awful singer. She knows her boyfriend wants to be close to his brother, but still, how does Liam not get sick of Killian’s shit?</p><p> </p><p>“It’s fine,” she assures him, looking up into his warm blue eyes. “I just can’t wait until we get a place of our own. Just you and me.” </p><p> </p><p>A serene smile stretches over Liam’s lips as he gazes into her eyes and caresses her cheek. “I can’t wait either, baby.” He turns her toward the wall, pressing her back against it, much like Killian had done a few moments ago. Emma moans when she feels Liam’s thickness digging into her thigh. “Then I would get to fuck you whenever I wanted without worrying about my little brother pounding on the wall, telling us to stop.” He lifts her up and she instinctively wraps her legs around his waist as he buries his face in the crook of her neck and gives her a few gentle thrusts. Emma tilts her head back and moans, loving the way his cock feels pressed against her center. He’s wearing boxers, but she can still feel every inch of him.</p><p> </p><p>“That would be amazing,” she murmurs breathlessly as he leaves a trail of kisses down her neck. </p><p> </p><p>“But it might not be such a good idea because then I would never want to leave. I’d want to stay home and make love to you all day.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma laughs as his words vibrate against her skin. “You’re insatiable.”</p><p> </p><p>“Can’t help it, love. You’re so bloody gorgeous and perfect. And when you have something rare and precious, you hold onto it and never let it go.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma’s heart warms, a blissful smile curving her lips. Liam’s sweet lines, no matter how cheesy or sappy, are just some of the reasons why she fell in love with him. He always knows what to say to make her feel special. Emma fists her hands in his hair and pulls his face to hers, capturing his lips for a heated kiss.</p><p> </p><p>Killian’s bedroom door opens, and he barges through the hallway, bursting their cozy, quiet bubble. “I can’t wait for you two to get your own place either. Then I won’t have to hear you two fucking every goddamn second of the day,” he grumbles as he marches down the hall.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, like we’ve never heard you fucking one of your many conquests!” Emma hollers after him.</p><p> </p><p>“Whatever, I’m taking a shower. I’m late for work and you’re taking too damn long.” </p><p> </p><p>Emma’s eyes widen when he disappears into the bathroom, and she releases herself from Liam’s hold and follows Killian, but before she can stop him, he slams the door in her face.</p><p> </p><p>She’s seeing red as she wiggles the knob and is even more pissed when it’s locked. “You asshole! I have to rinse the shampoo out of my hair since you shut off my shower before I could!”</p><p> </p><p>He answers by turning on his heavy metal music.</p><p> </p><p>Emma lets out a frustrated scream and pounds on the door. So much for being at work on time today.</p><p> </p><p>She’s fucking pissed and about to kick the door, but Liam’s warm arms instantly put her at ease. </p><p> </p><p>“Come on, baby, don’t let him get under your skin. Let me make you breakfast while you wait for the shower.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma relents and goes to her room to grab her bathrobe. She rinses her hair off in the kitchen sink as Liam starts the coffee.</p><p> </p><p>~*~</p><p> </p><p>Killian’s still cursing to himself when Emma’s in the shower for the second time that morning. He tugs on his shirt, hating himself for what he’d done earlier in the hallway. He never should’ve pinned her against the wall and almost kissed the bloody hell out of her, but he’d reacted before he could control himself. </p><p> </p><p>She was standing there, dripping wet in nothing but a towel. He can still see the wet spots on the carpet where her hair had dripped to the floor—in his bedroom when she marched in here to turn on his music and outside his door. He’d damn near drooled when he gazed upon the soft swell of her slick breasts, and couldn’t help but notice her pebbled nipples underneath the thin cotton. He could smell the fruity shampoo that was still in her hair and could feel her taut nipples against his chest when he pressed himself into her. She was so fucking sexy, and he wanted to pick her up and carry her to his room and have his way with her. Or seeing that she was naked underneath the towel, he wanted to lift her up and just take her there against the wall. It would have been so easy to slide inside of her and just fuck her senseless. Neither of those scenarios was an option, obviously.</p><p> </p><p>Killian sits on the edge of his bed, sighing into his hands. As much as he pretends to and wishes he actually hated her, he’s unfortunately in love with her. After he found her in his kitchen wearing Liam’s shirt a year ago, he did everything he could to forget about her. He's tried sleeping with other women, he still tries that method, but it never bloody works. It only makes him wish those women were Emma. It makes him want her more. It makes him feel more lonely than he already is.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe he would've been able to forget about her if she hadn't kept showing up here. And it was bad enough when she and Liam had their sleepovers all the time, but then she moved in eight months ago because she was sick of living with her brother, and Liam was sick of not waking up next to Emma every morning. </p><p> </p><p>Killian hates living here with Liam and Emma. He hates having to hear them fuck in the bedroom next to his; he hates having to hear them speak to each other like they’re so fucking in love. It makes him sick. </p><p> </p><p>He hates having to witness every milestone in their relationship. He had to listen every time Liam went on about how he was falling for Emma and how she was his soulmate. He had to hear about it when Liam told him he had finally professed his love for her; he had to hear about it when Liam said he could no longer stand living without her, and how he wanted to ask her to move in with him. Liam sought Killian's approval, which he reluctantly gave, and had to hear about Emma’s reaction and how excited she was when she said yes.</p><p> </p><p>Killian’s had to listen to every conversation Liam and Emma have had when they’re all home at the same time, he’s had to watch them feed each other, he’s had to witness one of them going into the kitchen, grabbing a can of Reddi Whip and heading back to their room countless times. For the past year, he’s had a front-row seat to Liam’s and Emma’s relationship, and he’s hated every fucking second of it.</p><p> </p><p>In the beginning, Killian had hoped their relationship would be temporary. Emma had been cheated on, too, just like Liam, so they had that in common and it was something they bonded over in the beginning. Killian thought they both just needed to cleanse themselves from their cheating exes, and that they were using each other to do that, but nope. What they had in the beginning went beyond helping each other heal. And Killian can’t blame his brother for wanting something more with Emma. She’s the whole fucking package and Killian knows this just as well as Liam does. It’s the reason why Killian hasn’t been able to tame his feelings for her, even though he knows she’s completely off-limits. </p><p> </p><p>He’s happy for Liam, he really is. He’s glad Liam found someone as amazing as Emma. He’s glad Liam is happy. He just wishes he’d never met her at the bar that night. He wishes he’d never set his sights on her so that maybe then he wouldn’t be pining for his brother’s girlfriend. Maybe then he wouldn’t be so head over heels for her. But then again, maybe he would still feel the same way about her, no matter how or when he met her.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe it’s his fault though. He knows his feelings for her would be so much easier to deal with if he didn’t live with her.</p><p> </p><p>There have been so many times he told himself he was finding another place to live, but at the end of the day, he talked himself out of it because why should he leave? This was his apartment long before Liam even met Emma. Hell, this was <em> Killian’s </em> apartment before Liam moved in with him. </p><p> </p><p>Killian moved here after he graduated from high school and his first roommate wouldn’t leave after not paying his share of the rent for six months. Killian could have gone to court, filled out the paperwork and served him with an eviction notice, which would’ve given his roommate a month to move out. But Killian had another idea in mind that would speed up the process, and all he had to do was beg Liam to go along with it. He got the idea from watching an episode of Friends. <em> The One Where Eddie Won't Go. </em> Chandler couldn’t get his annoying, nut job of a roommate to leave, so when Eddie returns to the apartment the next day, the lock on the door has been changed, Chandler and Joey pretend they don’t know Eddie and they act as though Joey never left. </p><p> </p><p>So Killian had something similar in mind. Liam showed up at his apartment and went into the roommate’s bedroom. Together, they gathered his things and started moving them to the front lawn. When the roommate returned later that day, the locks had been changed and Killian opened the door after he heard the incessant pounding and pretended he didn’t remember having another roommate besides his brother. When the guy refused to leave, Liam stood at the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest, and his intimidating height and size compared to the scrawny, short lad who stood in the hallway, finally left with his tail between his legs. </p><p> </p><p>When Liam went back to his and his girlfriend’s flat that night, he walked in on her while she was banging some other guy in the bed they shared. Not wanting to be reminded of what he’d witnessed when he slept in his bed every night, he’s the one who left and never came back. Liam and Killian have lived together in this flat ever since then. And they never heard from Killian’s old roommate ever again.</p><p> </p><p>So, why should Killian be the one to leave? </p><p> </p><p>Then again, if he stays, his feelings for Emma might become even more difficult to shake off. </p><p> </p><p>Right, like he could shake them off. If he could, then he would’ve done that long ago.</p><p> </p><p>~*~</p><p> </p><p>“Killian, can I talk to you for a moment?” Liam asks the next day when he steps into the apartment, shutting the door behind him. It’s Saturday, so neither of them is working, and Emma is out shopping with her sister-in-law.</p><p> </p><p>Killian’s carrying a mug of freshly brewed coffee as he leaves the kitchen, catching the serious expression on his brother's face and in his tone. He's a bit nervous if he’s being honest, certain Liam’s going to chew him out for shutting off Emma’s shower yesterday. Killian was out the door before Liam could say anything to his face about it. He supposes he deserves the lecture, though; he was kind of an arsehole to her. Okay, he was a <em>huge</em> arsehole. But she was being so loud. And yes, she has the voice of an angel, but it doesn't give her the right to wake up the entire apartment building. Prepared for an arse chewing, Killian raises his free hand in surrender. “I promise I didn’t see anything. I was only trying to get her to stop singing—”</p><p> </p><p>Liam shakes his head before Killian can finish, and drags a hand through his hair, sighing deeply. “That’s not what I want to talk to you about.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh. Okay, what is it then?” Killian asks, noticing how nervous Liam appears to be.</p><p> </p><p>Liam motions to the living room, so they both head to the sofa and take a seat. He draws in a shaky breath and reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out a velvet box.</p><p> </p><p>Killian’s eyes widen in horror as he stares at the object. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> No, please tell me that’s not what I think it is. Please, Liam. Don’t make it so. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Killian gulps thickly, unable to remove his eyes from the box. He’s never prayed for anything in his entire twenty-three years of living on this earth, but right now he’s praying that whatever’s in that box is not a diamond ring.</p><p> </p><p>But judging by the smile cracking Liam’s lips, he already knows the words on his tongue before he speaks them. “I’m asking Emma to be my wife.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Heart meet dagger. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Killian feels like the wind has just been knocked out of him, all of the air in the room suddenly gone.</p><p> </p><p>Liam cracks open the box, showing Killian the ring. It’s a princess cut diamond with a white-gold band. “Do you think she’ll like it?”</p><p> </p><p>Liam’s waiting for some sort of approval, but all Killian can do is stare at the ring and feel a stab of jealousy. He knows he should be happy and supportive, but he still can’t help but want Emma to be his and not his brother’s. He knows Liam deserves a woman like Emma, though, and she deserves someone like Liam. He’s a good man, and if Killian were forced to pick someone besides himself, he’d pick Liam every time. And if he had to pick someone for Liam, there's no doubt he’d pick her. But that doesn’t make this any less easy.</p><p> </p><p>Killian clears the frog from his throat. “It’s stunning,” he says with a smile, trying to keep his tone even. “It’s stunning, just like Emma.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s exactly what I think too, little brother.” He blows out a wobbly breath. “I’m so bloody nervous about asking her to marry me. We’ve only been together for a year. Well, almost a year, but I know she’s the one for me, Killian. I know it deep in my bones. I’ve known since the night I met her.”</p><p> </p><p>Killian wants to say he knows the feeling. </p><p> </p><p>How is it even possible he and Liam felt the exact same way about the exact same woman that exact same night? </p><p> </p><p>She made her choice though, regardless of the chemistry between her and Killian.</p><p> </p><p>He also knows how Liam feels because, apart from that first week he and Emma were together, he hasn’t exactly kept Killian out of the loop. So Killian’s known every goddamn step of the way how Liam has felt about her. “How will you ask her?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well . . .” Liam runs his hand through his hair nervously and stares off into space, as though he’s playing the scenario in his head. “For our one-year anniversary, I want to have a picnic on the lake where we went on our first date. Which reminds me . . .” Liam looks at Killian, appearing a bit skittish about something, “I wanted to ask you if I can borrow your motorcycle.”</p><p> </p><p>Killian furrows his brows. “But you hate my bike. When I first got it, you kept telling me how dangerous it was, and when I taught you how to ride it, you said you never wanted to be on it again.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know… but I want this proposal to be special, and I always catch Emma staring at your bike whenever we’re getting into my car.”</p><p> </p><p>“You do?”</p><p> </p><p>“Aye. And she’s mentioned she’s never ridden a motorcycle before, so I wanted her to have that experience. I want to do something with her she might enjoy before I pop the big question, you know? So she doesn’t think I’ll be one of those vanilla husbands who doesn’t know how to have fun.”</p><p> </p><p>Killian’s heart clenches. How many times has he dreamt about taking Emma for a ride on his motorcycle? How many times has he dreamt of having her arms wrapped around him, holding him tight as they rode his bike? </p><p> </p><p>“Then after we eat and have some wine, we’ll walk along the beach, and when the moment feels right, I’ll get down on one knee.”</p><p> </p><p>Killian swallows hard. The scenario Liam is painting sounds absolutely perfect, and he knows Emma will love it. He knows Emma’s not a grand gesture type of lass, and what Liam has planned is the perfect combination of grand and simple. </p><p> </p><p>“So, what do you say, can I use it?” </p><p> </p><p>When Killian witnesses the spark in Liam’s eyes, he can’t help but say, “Of course. You can use it for as long as you’d like.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, Killian,” he says appreciatively, clasping his hands together as he leans forward and perches his elbows on his knees. “I also have another favor to ask of you.”</p><p> </p><p>Killian quirks a brow as he sets his mug on the coffee table. “I’m afraid to ask.” He laughs, but he actually is afraid to ask.</p><p> </p><p>Liam chuckles. “Relax, I only wanted to ask if you’d be my best man. You’re not only my brother . . .” his face grows serious as he looks Killian dead in the eyes, “you’re my best friend, and I couldn’t imagine anyone else standing up there beside me as I marry the woman of my dreams. I imagine it’ll take a while to plan the wedding, and the earliest it would be is next year, but—” </p><p> </p><p>“I’d be honored,” Killian cuts him off, swallowing hard. It feels like Liam just drove the dagger deeper into his chest. </p><p> </p><p>As honored as he is for Liam to ask him to be his best man, he can’t stand at the altar and watch the woman of <em> his </em> dreams marry his brother. He just can’t. But he can’t possibly tell Liam that. </p><p> </p><p>A big grin overtakes Liam’s face as he pulls Killian in for a big hug. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m happy for you,” Killian expresses hoarsely, trying to ignore how crushed he feels. “You deserve it, brother,” he says genuinely. </p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, Killian. That means a lot,” Liam says as they break the hug. “Now just hope I can grow some balls to get down on one knee, and pray she says yes.” </p><p> </p><p>“She’ll say yes, I know she will, Liam,” he says sincerely, patting his brother on the shoulder. He knows deep down Liam and Emma are perfect for each other, no matter how much he wants to deny it.</p><p> </p><p>“You really think so?” Liam is asking hopefully. </p><p> </p><p>And right now, Killian can’t help but smile. If Liam were proposing to any other woman, Killian would be so bloody happy for him. So he shoves away the fact that it’s Emma they’re talking about so he can just be there for his brother like Liam needs him to be. “Aye. There is no one more perfect for you than her.”</p><p> </p><p>Liam grins from ear to ear. “At least we can agree on one thing,” he chuckles. “I love her so bloody much.” His face suddenly clouds with something Killian can’t quite put his finger on, and once again, Liam appears to be nervous. “That brings me to the final thing I wanted to talk to you about.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay,” Killian gulps. He has a bad feeling about what the next thing might be, though it can’t possibly be worse than telling him he’s proposing to the same woman Killian’s completely in love with or asking Killian to stand beside Liam as he watches Emma marry someone else.</p><p> </p><p>“I need you to be nice to Emma,” he says in a condemning tone. “She thinks you hate her.”</p><p> </p><p>Guilt clenches Killian’s heart, and as much as he knows he should be nice to the woman who will be Liam’s future wife, he knows agreeing to be nice to Emma is like agreeing to jump into quicksand.</p><p> </p><p>For the past year, Killian’s had to pretend to hate Emma because he knows if he and Emma end up becoming friends, then he’ll be tempted to act on his feelings for her, and he can’t let that happen. He can’t do that to Liam. So, there’s only one other option.</p><p> </p><p>Killian has to move out, and he needs to move out soon. Until that happens, he has to throw on a smile and pretend everything is hunky-dory. “I don’t hate her,” he manages, trying to shove all of his emotions down his throat. </p><p> </p><p>“Good, then act like it. If she says yes when I propose, she’ll be your sister-in-law soon, so get used to that idea.”</p><p> </p><p>Killian tears his gaze from Liam, unable to look at his brother right now. He feels like his ears are bleeding. Like his heart is bleeding. Liam has no idea how much his words just gutted him. He could never get used to being Emma’s . . .</p><p> </p><p>No, he can’t even think about the idea. He could never consider Emma as his sister-in-law, and there’s no way he could ever be a brother figure to her. There’s just no bloody way. He’s wanked off while thinking about her for crying out fucking loud.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t have to worry, I promise I’ll be nicer to Emma.” Even as Killian makes the promise, he can feel himself being pulled in by the quicksand.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, Killian.”</p><p> </p><p>When they stand, Killian tells him he’s going to the gym. He needs to relieve some of the pain bubbling inside his chest and figure out how the bloody hell he’s going to win this internal battle inside him, or if he ever will. He should have seen this coming though. He knows Liam has been serious about Emma from the beginning.</p><p> </p><p>He changes into his gym clothes, and once the cool breeze hits his face, once Liam is no longer near him, he can finally breathe, but even then, the surrounding air feels paper-thin. He’s barely able to suck in enough oxygen to make his heart not feel so heavy.</p><p> </p><p>He puts on his helmet and hops on his bike, driving out of the parking lot and trying to figure out how the bloody hell to get out of this predicament.</p><p> </p><p>As much as he loves Liam, he can’t fucking do this. Any of it. He can’t be Liam’s best man, he can’t give a best man speech and tell everyone how bloody happy he is for the bride and groom while he’ll actually be dying inside. He can’t live with them for one more bloody second, and he sure as hell can’t be her brother-in-law.</p><p> </p><p>Which leaves Killian with only one choice.</p><p> </p><p>He needs to get out of Storybrooke. And he needs to get out <em> soon. </em></p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s been a while since he’s been in his brother's bar. Ever since he graduated and quit his job to become a project coordinator, he hasn’t been here very often. But at this time in his life, he deems it very appropriate to be here, drowning in rum and his own misery as he tries to plot his escape. He wants to skip town and get away from <em>her, </em> but at the same time, he doesn't want to disappoint his brother. He thought about just leaving without saying a word and then contacting him later to let him know he’s not dead. But what would he even say?</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Sorry I left, brother, but I’m in love with your future wife and couldn't stand the thought of seeing you two get married and live happily ever after? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>No, he definitely can't say that.</p><p> </p><p>Gods, he is so screwed. He has no idea what to do.</p><p> </p><p>“Killian?”</p><p> </p><p>The familiar voice pulls him from his thoughts, and he turns his head, seeing the owner of said voice approach him. </p><p> </p><p>“How are you?” she asks vibrantly with a big smile plastered on her face.</p><p> </p><p>Killian gulps, offering a small smile. She doesn’t know how loaded that question is. “I’m fine, how are you?” </p><p> </p><p>“I’m great, actually,” she says, leaning against the bar counter beside him. “I’m newly single and just snagged a really great job. So things are going pretty well.”</p><p> </p><p>Killian arches a brow. “You finally divorced that wanker you were married to?” He remembers when Milah worked here as a cocktail server, and how she’d always complain about her husband.</p><p> </p><p>“Yep. And I couldn't be happier.” She regales him with a long, detailed account of how things ended between her and Gold, how she was so unhappy and bored with her marriage and couldn’t take another goddamn second living with a man she fell out of love with. Milah is five years older than Killian, and he remembers she went back to school while she worked here and became an art teacher after she graduated, something she had always dreamed of doing. Not long after she quit working here, she kicked Gold to the curb and served him with divorce papers. “What about you? Seeing anyone?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, you know me. Haven’t settled down and don't plan to.” Unless by some miracle he had the chance to settle down with his brother's girlfriend.</p><p> </p><p>A slow, mischievous grin stretches across Milah’s lips. “Perfect, because I don’t plan on settling down again anytime soon.” She moves in closer, placing a hand on his chest, her eyes staring at his lips. “So, what do you say we<em> not </em>settle down together?”</p><p> </p><p>Killian doesn’t really give it a second thought. He needs to forget Emma, even if it’s for twenty minutes. He just needs to focus his energy and attention on something else before he goes completely insane with what to do about his current predicament. So, he offers another smile, rises from his stool and grabs Milah’s hand, leading her out of the bar.</p><p> </p><p>~*~</p><p> </p><p>Liam’s in the shower while Emma’s making pancakes in the kitchen with a blissful smile on her face. Well, making pancakes might be an overstatement considering the pancake mix came from a box. But she’s learned a few tricks from her brother and adds cinnamon and nutmeg for more flavor.</p><p> </p><p>She doesn’t cook often, Liam does most of the cooking, but she wants to make him a nice breakfast since today is their one-year anniversary. She’s not sure what he has planned for the day, but she’s certain he has something up his sleeve. He told her to dress warmly today, so that piqued her curiosity.</p><p> </p><p>Emma pours some batter onto the griddle, settling on humming a tune to herself instead of singing. Otherwise, Killian would yell at her for being too loud and say she’s an awful singer. She sets the bowl down and spins around, grabbing some plates from the cupboard. </p><p> </p><p>Her heart flies out of her chest and she almost drops the dishes when she sees a woman standing in the kitchen just staring at her.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> What the fuck? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Who are you?” the other woman asks with furrowed brows, and not even nicely. There’s sass in her tone and flak in her glare. </p><p> </p><p>Okay, Killian really needs to raise his standards during his selection process before he brings a woman home because while this one is pretty with wild, raven hair and green eyes, she has no manners.</p><p> </p><p>“Who the hell are you?”</p><p> </p><p>The woman places her hands on her hips, engaging Emma in a staring contest. “I asked you first.”</p><p> </p><p>What is she, twelve?</p><p> </p><p>Emma laughs and sets the plates on the counter before picking up the spatula and flipping the pancakes. She can’t believe this. She lives here and yet is being questioned by one of the floozies her roommate slept with last night. She doesn’t have time for this shit and is certainly in no mood, so she turns toward the woman and sticks out her hand, donning a fake, sickly sweet grin. “I’m Emma. I live here. And you are?”</p><p> </p><p>The woman doesn’t move to shake her hand and instead gives her the stink eye. “You live here?”</p><p> </p><p>Emma lowers her hand, but her smile doesn’t fade. “I do. Are you lost or something because I’d be happy to show you to <em>my </em>door,” she says sweetly. </p><p> </p><p>Killian pads into the kitchen in his boxers and halts in his tracks when he sees the woman in the kitchen as if he’s shocked she’s still here. “You’re still here, love?” he asks, grabbing a mug from the cupboard and pouring himself a cup of coffee before wrapping an arm around her back. </p><p> </p><p>Emma can tell he’s not exactly excited to see her in his kitchen, but he’s trying to be nice. She has to fight off a smirk at that.</p><p> </p><p>The woman turns toward him, flashing a small smile as she wraps her arms around the back of his neck. “Killy Bear, why didn’t you tell me you lived with a female?”</p><p> </p><p>Emma crosses her arms and arches a questioning brow, as though she’s wondering the exact same thing. “Yeah, Killy Bear, why didn’t you tell her about me?”</p><p> </p><p>The woman snaps her head toward Emma and flashes a deadly glare.</p><p> </p><p>A big smile threatens Emma’s lips. She’s not sure why, but she already enjoys getting under this woman’s skin.</p><p> </p><p>Killian shrugs casually, as though a war is not about to break out in the kitchen. “Didn’t think it was important.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma scoffs, pretending to be offended. “After everything we’ve been through together, that’s what you think of me?” she teases, hoping to get a rise out of the other woman. Which she does.</p><p> </p><p>“What have you two been through together?” she asks, glancing between Killian and Emma as though she’s accusing them of having some kind of scandalous affair.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Who the hell is this bitch? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Relax, love, Emma is Liam’s girlfriend,” he assures, pressing a kiss on her forehead. “Emma, this is Milah,” he says, introducing them to each other. But the introductions are very much unnecessary. “Why do you think the apartment is so clean and tastefully decorated? Emma sprinkled all her girly crap like fairy dust when she moved in here.”</p><p> </p><p>Milah’s mouth falls open as she studies Emma with a scrutinizing glare. “Oh.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma plates the pancakes and pours the next batch onto the skillet as she feels Milah’s condemning eyes scroll up and down her body. </p><p> </p><p>“So, do you always dress like that in front of your boyfriend’s brother?”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Okay, this bitch is about to get slapped. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Emma can’t believe the fucking audacity of this woman coming in here and criticizing her for the clothes she chooses to wear in her own goddamn apartment! </p><p> </p><p>She sets the bowl down, trying not to lose her shit as she plants her hands on her hips. “What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?” she challenges. Okay, she’ll admit the cotton shorts she’s wearing are kind of short and she's not wearing a bra underneath her pink tank top, but she’s not showing anything she’s not supposed to be showing. Besides, she should be able to prance around in her own kitchen without a fucking bra, for crying out loud.</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing, love,” Killian interjects, taking Milah’s hand and trying to pull her out of the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>Milah doesn’t budge, completely appalled, as if Killian had just slapped her in the face. “You’re defending her? And you call her love, too?”</p><p> </p><p>Emma suppresses a laugh. Is this woman actually jealous of her? </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Give me a freaking break. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Aye, even if I had the right to tell her how to dress, which I don’t, what she’s wearing is perfectly fine. And I call everyone love,” he says with a smirk like it’s no big deal. </p><p> </p><p>Does he not realize the effect he has on women when he calls them that? Apparently not. </p><p> </p><p>It's bad enough he waltzes around the apartment in nothing but his boxers, showing off that muscular body and those nicely toned and tattooed arms.</p><p> </p><p>But hey, she's allowed to look, right? As long as she doesn't touch. Not that she's tempted to.</p><p> </p><p>She may have been tempted once before, but that was what feels like ages ago. She completely fell for his charm and was ready to go back to his place for what she could only imagine would’ve been an incredible night of earth-shattering sex. But now she’s so glad she walked away from the bar that night. Otherwise, she would’ve been just another day of the week. Another Milah or Tina or Sally Jo. Another toot it and boot it. And while she would’ve been okay with that at the time, she’s so glad she didn’t go down that path. </p><p> </p><p>The thought of coming back to this apartment and banging Liam’s brother, squashing any and all opportunity to be with her other half makes her nauseous. She can’t imagine an alternative future that doesn’t involve Liam. If she hadn’t met him that night, she probably would’ve been with one guy after the next, never searching or finding anything real. Hell, she probably would’ve ended up just like Killian.</p><p> </p><p>Milah reverts her eyes to Emma with a haughty expression. “Well, here’s a tip—maybe not dress so slutty at home since you live with your boyfriend's brother.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> That’s it. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Emma is seething as she charges toward this woman, not exactly sure what will happen when she gets to her, but she’s thinking maybe a punch in the face. She doesn’t get that far though, because Killian is standing in front of her after he sets his coffee on the counter, placing his hands on her arms and pleading with her.</p><p> </p><p>“Just let it go, Emma,” he whispers. “She’ll be gone soon.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma glares at him for stopping her and looks over his shoulder, shouting at Milah, “You’re seriously calling me slutty when you’re the one leaving some guy’s apartment you probably just met last night?! Give me a fucking break!”</p><p> </p><p>Milah looks aghast. “Wow, really? You’re slut-shaming me? Not that it’s any of your business, but Killian is no stranger to me. We used to work together.”</p><p> </p><p>“So it’s okay to call me a slut?!”</p><p> </p><p>“If the shoe fits,” Milah remarks with a smirk.</p><p> </p><p>Emma grows angrier and breaks away from Killian's hold, but before she can react with her fist, he turns toward Milah, scolding her. </p><p> </p><p>“However you think she’s dressed doesn’t give you the right to criticize what my roommate wears. This is her place just as much as it is mine.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Whoah, back the fuck up.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Is Killian Jones actually defending her? The same Killian Jones who’s always making her life a living hell?</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Well, well, well. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She never thought she’d see the day.</p><p> </p><p>Milah glares at him so hard, Emma’s surprised he doesn’t turn into a cloud of smoke. “Of course you would say that; you probably enjoy seeing her dressed like that,” she accuses pointedly, her nose wrinkled in disgust.</p><p> </p><p>The look he shoots Emma as he takes a sip of his coffee, hiding the smirk she knows he’s donning against the mug—the smirk that says she’s not wrong—makes her cheeks heat up. Despite his hatred for her, she knows he finds her attractive. She’s known since that first night. </p><p> </p><p>Milah apparently notices the look he gives Emma because her nostrils flare and she heads to the front door with a huff and tugs on her boots. “I don't have to put up with this! I'm leaving!”</p><p> </p><p>Emma grins spitefully. “Great! Here's a tip—don't let the door hit you on the way out!”</p><p> </p><p>Milah gets in one last scowl before Killian escorts her out the door. </p><p> </p><p>As soon as that bitch is gone, he enters the kitchen, an apologetic expression etched in his features. “I’m really sorry about her, love,” he says sincerely. “She had no right to say those things.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma arches a brow, eyeing him suspiciously. “Why did you defend me? You’re always a jerk.”</p><p> </p><p>Regret flashes in his eyes as he closes the distance between them. “Jerk is too kind a word. I’ve been a complete arsehole to you, Emma . . . and I’m . . . I'm sorry,” he murmurs, his words cracked and honest.</p><p> </p><p><em>Killian’s suddenly being nice to her?</em> That can only mean one thing. “Liam told you to be nice to me, didn’t he?” This has Liam’s meddling written all over it.</p><p> </p><p>He gives into a surrendering smile. “Aye, but he was right to ask that of me. I’ve been a stubborn pain in the arse. You’re Liam’s . . . you’re his girlfriend and you make him happy, and he means a lot to me. So we should get along, if for no other reason than to make Liam happy.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma furrows her brows, not sure if she should trust this sudden change in Killian’s attitude. “Did someone spike your drink?”</p><p> </p><p>Killian chuckles. “You tell me. You’re the one who brewed the coffee.”</p><p> </p><p>She guesses she should just be grateful he’s not being an ass, so she grabs a plate of pancakes and offers it to him. “Hungry?”</p><p> </p><p>“Starving, actually,” he says with a grin, eagerly accepting the plate. He grabs the fork and immediately digs in, groaning around the fork prongs. “Mmmm, this is delicious.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you,” she says proudly. </p><p> </p><p>“No wonder Liam keeps you around.” He smirks and turns around, heading out of the kitchen as he adds, “All this time I thought it was because of your sweet pussy.”</p><p> </p><p>Ah. There’s the Killian she knows. And just like that, the familiar anger she always feels for him comes rushing back. “What did you just say to me?” she demands, her eyes wide, voice venomous and her jaw clenched. She’s two seconds away from slapping that cocky smirk off his face.</p><p> </p><p>“You heard me.” He spins around and flashes her a wink. “Thanks for the breakfast, sweet cakes.”</p><p> </p><p>He continues to make his way out of the kitchen as Emma huffs and grabs a rag, launching it at him. As though he’s expecting this, he ducks just in time, and the rag hits the wall.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Damn bastard. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>~*~</p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>Six hours later . . .</em> </b>
</p><p> </p><p>“She said yes, Killian!” Liam’s exuberant shouting over the phone certainly doesn’t help Killian’s situation. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Not at all.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>It feels like Liam just stuck a million daggers into his heart, even though he's completely oblivious.</p><p> </p><p>“See? I knew she would,” Killian says, trying to hide the devastation in his voice with some pleasant positivity. “Congratulations, Liam.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, little brother. Gods, I’m so bloody happy, I feel like announcing our engagement from the mountaintops.”</p><p> </p><p>“I bet,” Killian comments, jealousy surging through him. He can imagine anyone who has the honor of marrying a woman as incredible as Emma would want the entire world to know. </p><p> </p><p>She’s like a rare gem. Her warm personality and feisty attitude, the way she always finds new ways to take jabs at him when he’s being a dick to her, the sound of her laugh, and how they have a lot of the same interests in books and movies and shows. If Killian weren’t secretly in love with her, they probably would’ve made fantastic friends. And he’s always amazed by how smart and witty she is. When he and Liam are discussing something like politics, Emma always jumps in and corrects them about something and blows them out of the water. </p><p> </p><p>As much as he always tries to pretend she annoys the bloody hell out of him, he always grins proudly on the inside, and she’s not even his girlfriend. She just has that effect on people. Which he supposes is why Milah was so disapproving when she saw another woman standing in Killian’s kitchen, all tall and blonde and gorgeous as she wore a simple tank top and a pair of cotton shorts. But Killian's sure anything she had worn would’ve pissed off Milah. Emma could be wearing a turtleneck sweatshirt and baggy pants and still be the most stunning lass in a room of a thousand women wearing scandalous dresses.</p><p> </p><p>Milah had no right to be jealous, though. She knew he wasn’t looking to settle down and had even said she only wanted something casual since she recently divorced her husband. And yet she was acting like a jealous girlfriend in front of Emma. When Milah had called her slutty, he had wanted to throw her out. His nostrils were flaring and his blood was boiling. He suddenly felt very protective of Emma. And it wasn’t brotherly protection he felt for her. Not only does he want to shield Emma from all the brutalities of the world, but he wants Emma to always feel loved and cherished and worshipped, and he wants to be the one to do all those things. He wants to protect the woman he loves at all costs. So no, it definitely wasn't a brotherly stance he was taking. </p><p> </p><p>Hell, he had to pretend Milah was Emma when he brought her to his bed last night. And he damn near groaned her name when he came, picturing it was Emma he was cumming inside of. Well, he didn’t actually cum inside Milah, of course. He always uses condoms when he’s with a woman.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Always. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Are you free tonight?”</p><p> </p><p>“Aye, I have nothing planned. You told me to keep my evening open in case Emma said yes.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s right, I did. I almost forgot,” he chuckles.</p><p> </p><p>Killian smiles a little in understanding.</p><p> </p><p>Liam must be on cloud nine right now. </p><p> </p><p>“I have reservations tonight for five. The three of us, plus David and Mary Margaret. Em and I want you all there to help us celebrate our engagement.”</p><p> </p><p>“No worries, I’ll be there,” Killian reassures, trying to keep his tone even as he forces out the words. He’ll be there right before he leaves Storybrooke for good. </p><p> </p><p>“Excellent.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m happy for you, Liam,” Killian says sincerely. “I really am. You’ll make a fine husband to Emma, and a great father to your children someday.” As he’s speaking those painful words, he means them with every fiber of his being. He’s just sad he won’t be there to witness Liam as an amazing husband and father. He won't get to be Uncle Killian to their little boy or girl.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, Killian. It means a lot to me that you’re on board with this.”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be? Emma makes you happy.”</p><p> </p><p>“She really does.” Killian can hear the blissful grin in his tone even though he can’t see him. “I love you, brother.”</p><p> </p><p>Killian’s heart clenches at Liam’s statement. He doesn’t hear his brother say those words often, but then again, Killian doesn’t always give him much of a reason to say them. He doesn't deserve it anyway, especially since Killian’s in love with his fiancé.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Fiancé. </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> Gods, someone put me out of my misery and kill me already, </em> Killian thinks to himself, briefly closing his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“I love you, too, Liam,” he breathes.</p><p> </p><p>Liam tells him he and Emma are going to David and Mary Margaret’s to tell them the news and that they'll be home later. </p><p> </p><p>After they end the call, Killian finishes packing a bag. He’s not exactly sure where he’s going yet. Maybe he’ll find a hotel somewhere and buy a plane ticket to England to visit his father. But maybe that’s not a bright idea considering Brennan would mention to Liam he was there if they were to chat on the phone.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe Killian will just drive to California. Once he’s there, he’ll send Liam a text, telling him the truth. That he’s in love with Emma and didn’t want to interfere with their happy marriage. Because he can’t imagine Liam would blame Killian for feeling the way he does about Emma. Maybe then he would be more understanding.</p><p> </p><p>So that’s the plan.</p><p> </p><p>As soon as Killian leaves the restaurant, he’ll come back here, and grab his bag when Emma and Liam are in their bedroom. He imagines they’ll want to engage in some celebratory rumpy-pumpy, so he’ll tell them he’s leaving to give them their privacy.</p><p> </p><p>What they won’t know, though, is Killian won’t be coming back.</p><p> </p><p>A few hours later, Killian is watching Friends as Emma bursts through the door with a big, radiant smile on her face.</p><p> </p><p>“Killian, did you see the ring?!” she asks excitedly, rushing over and holding up her left hand to show him. </p><p> </p><p>He throws on a small smile, inwardly dying as he takes Emma’s hand, admiring the ring, even though he’s already seen it. “Aye, love. And it looks beautiful on you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, Killian!”</p><p> </p><p>To his befuddlement, Emma bends over and throws her arms around him.</p><p> </p><p>He can’t breathe, her sweet perfume overtaking his senses. He wraps his arms around her, trying not to smell her hair because that would just be creepy, considering she’s going to be his sister-in-law soon.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m so happy for you,” he forces out, as painful as it is to say those words out loud.</p><p> </p><p>Emma pulls away. “Thank you,” she smirks and adds, “future brother-in-law,” as she punches his shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>Correction, it was more like a tap, but it felt more like a punch to the gut. Or like Emma just twisted the knife that’s already piercing his heart. “Of course . . .” He honestly tries to call her his future sister-in-law in return, but he can’t get the words out. “Of course, love.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m going to change. Is my fiancé getting ready?” Emma brings her hands to her mouth, as though she can’t believe the words that left her throat. “Oh my God, it feels so good to call him that!”</p><p> </p><p>Killian breaks through the hurt he’s feeling in order to furrow his brows in confusion. “Liam’s not here. I thought he was with you.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma shakes her head and pulls out her phone from her back pocket. “No, we went over to my brother’s to tell them the news. And then Mary Margaret wanted to go dress shopping . . . already, so she dropped me off when we were done,” Emma laughs. “She’s super excited if you can't tell. Probably more excited than I am and I’m the bride!”</p><p> </p><p>Seeing Emma like this makes him smile. She looks so incredibly happy, and it warms his fucking heart. Even if he’s not the one who gets the pleasure of bringing that smile to her face, he’s so glad to see her so happy. And truthfully, seeing the giddy grin on her face and the sparkle in her eyes makes him forget about all of his pain. Seeing her genuinely happy and excited and in love does things to him he doesn’t expect. </p><p> </p><p>Tears sting his eyes at the thought of leaving and making Emma and Liam sad he’s gone. Because, honestly, if Killian gets to witness the pure joy on Emma’s face like he is witnessing right now, well then he wants to be here for that. Besides, the thought of never seeing her again, never witnessing her beautiful smile or the venomous glares she always graces him with when he pisses her off, never gets to see those soft, luminous eyes or the way she struts into the kitchen in her bare feet every morning with miles of pale white legs and blonde, disheveled hair as he watches her from the kitchen chair . . . well, the thought makes his heart sink. </p><p> </p><p>But he’s afraid whenever the smiles and excitement aren’t overtaking hers and Liam’s faces, the guilt and pain will kick back in and the misery will just consume him again. </p><p> </p><p>What’s worse, though? Being tortured from watching his brother live the life he wants or being tortured from not getting to see his brother or the woman he loves?</p><p> </p><p>He’s so fucking conflicted.</p><p> </p><p>Emma phones Liam, but Killian can hear the call go to his voicemail. Worry flickers in her eyes, so he feels the overwhelming urge to console her.</p><p> </p><p>“Knowing him, he's on cloud nine right now, so I imagine he just took my bike for a joy ride and can't hear you calling him. He probably had to wrap his mind around the fact a lass as amazing as you agreed to marry him.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma gives him a sarcastic smirk. “Aw, thanks. I know you’re lying, but thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>As she leaves Liam a message, telling him to call her back, Killian saddens. Does she honestly not realize how amazing she is? </p><p> </p><p>She hangs up, staring at the home screen on her phone, which has a picture of Liam kissing her cheek and Emma smiling blissfully. “You’re probably right, though.” She looks up at Killian and offers a frail smile. “He actually enjoyed driving the motorcycle, so he probably just wanted to use it some more before he has to give it back to you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Aye, probably.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you for letting us borrow it, by the way. I’ve always wanted to ride on one.”</p><p> </p><p>“No problem, love. He knew you did, that’s why he asked to borrow it. He wanted you to have a fun time today.”</p><p> </p><p>“I did; it was really fun. We took the bike to the lake and had a picnic Liam put together. My favorite, of course,” she laughs. “Grilled cheese sandwiches and onion rings, and cheesecake for dessert. Then we walked along the beach and he got down on one knee,” she says in a daze, picturing the memory as though it’s playing in her mind like a romantic movie.</p><p> </p><p>“Were you surprised?” he asks curiously, snapping Emma out of the heavenly dream state she seems to be in. </p><p> </p><p>“Yes, I was. I mean, we’ve talked about marriage and having kids before, but I had no idea he was going to propose so soon. We’ve only been together for a year. But it’s hard to believe it’s only been a year. I feel like I’ve known Liam all my life.”</p><p> </p><p>Killian nods, hanging on to every word, even though it’s killing him. “He’d say the same about you, love.”</p><p> </p><p>“Probably,” she agrees with a small laugh. “Okay, well, I’m going to change now. He should be back soon.”</p><p> </p><p>As Emma dashes off to her bedroom, he chuckles to himself and turns around in his seat, reverting his attention to Friends. It’s ironic because he’s watching the episode where Chandler is in love with Joey’s girlfriend.</p><p> </p><p>He supposes he should probably get ready, too, but he knows it won't take him nearly as long as it will take Emma. Besides, Liam will still have to change when he returns home, so Killian will just wait until his brother gets home before he gets up to ditch his jeans and t-shirt.</p><p> </p><p>“Killian, does this dress make me look fat?” Emma asks half an hour later, stepping into the living room. “Be honest.”</p><p> </p><p>He pauses the show and cranes his neck, turning in his seat on the sofa to see Emma standing there all dolled up and dressed to kill. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Bloody fucking hell. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Soft, golden curls cascade over her bare shoulders, and she’s wearing red lipstick to match her curve-hugging dress.</p><p> </p><p><em> Fat </em>is the last word that comes to mind when he looks at her, but his jaw is on the floor and he can’t seem to conjure the words. He stands and rounds the couch to get a better look, as though he has to ponder her question. But he already knows his answer. “Spin around, let me get the full effect,” he says with a small smile and twirls his index finger while he tries to hide the effect she has on him.</p><p> </p><p>Thankfully she seems to buy the facade, because she doesn’t hesitate to do a slow spin, showing off every delectable curve of her body. Her breasts, her hips, her ass, her long legs. The dress fits her like a glove, and she’s so fucking stunning, but there are no words he could say to properly convey just how fantastic she looks.</p><p> </p><p>He wolf whistles, making her giggle as she turns around to face him again, her cheeks the same color as her lips. </p><p> </p><p>“Well? What do you think? Seriously.”</p><p> </p><p>“One word comes to mind—breathtaking . . .” </p><p> </p><p>And he’s not lying. She literally takes his breath away.</p><p> </p><p>She places her hands on her hips, eyeing him doubtfully. “Do you really mean that, or are you just messing with me?”</p><p> </p><p>Killian’s heart clenches at her question. Does she honestly think he would do that? He supposes he doesn’t blame her for thinking that, though. </p><p> </p><p>He steps forward, closing the distance between them, and removes her hands from her hips, taking them in his own. “I mean it, Emma. You look perfect. Liam’s jaw is going to drop to the floor when he sees you in this dress.”</p><p> </p><p>“You really think so?”</p><p> </p><p>Killian nods, his eyes locked with hers. “Absolutely. He’s one lucky bastard.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma grins from ear to ear and surprises the bloody hell out of him when she throws her arms around him once again. Killian has to suppress a groan when her body is snuggly pressed against his, but he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her, resting his hands on her back. “Congratulations, Emma,” he whispers in her ear. </p><p> </p><p>“Thank you,” she says, squeezing him tighter. So tight, he wonders if she feels even a small morsel of what he feels for her. </p><p> </p><p>He pulls away slightly and cups her cheeks in his hands and caresses her skin with his thumb, gazing deeply into her eyes. He wants to tell her how completely in love he is with her, how he wishes he were the one spending the rest of his life with her. But instead, he settles on, “You and Liam will be so happy together.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, Killian.”</p><p> </p><p>He removes a hand from her cheek and swipes the hair from one of her shoulders, revealing her smooth, ivory skin. He swears her breath catches when his fingers brush her soft, glowing skin; he swears she’s regarding him with the same adoration he feels for her, but he’s sure he’s imagining it. She’s marrying his brother, for heaven’s sake. And the day she feels something for Killian, akin to what she feels for Liam, is the day hell freezes over. </p><p> </p><p>He’s sure of it.</p><p> </p><p>But even so, it feels like they’re having a moment, just like he thought they were having one in the bar the night he met her. So he relishes this moment for as long as he can before it passes.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Rrroooaaarrr </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The loud rumble of his stomach breaks the silence, making her giggle. And the sound is so fucking adorable. </p><p> </p><p>“Someone’s hungry.”</p><p> </p><p>He blushes and removes his hand from her cheek to scratch behind his ear. “I haven’t eaten very much today.” He was too busy plotting his escape and feeling too miserable to stomach anything. “Would you want some Chinese if I ordered some?” </p><p> </p><p>She furrows her brows reprovingly. “Killian, we’re having dinner soon.”</p><p> </p><p>“So? What’s your point?”</p><p> </p><p>She shakes her head and laughs. “I’m surprised you’ve barely eaten, you’re like a human garbage disposal.”</p><p> </p><p>He grins proudly. She’s not wrong.</p><p> </p><p>Emma caves and requests an order of Crab Rangoons, claiming them as her appetizer. Once he places their orders and hangs up the phone, he joins Emma on the couch.</p><p> </p><p>“You watch Friends, too?” she asks in surprise, just now noticing it on the television screen.</p><p> </p><p>He nods. “Aye, it’s a guilty pleasure of mine.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why feel guilty about it? It’s a great show,” she comments, picking up the remote to press play.</p><p> </p><p>“It really is,” he agrees with a nod.</p><p> </p><p>“I just never pegged you as a Friends type of guy.”</p><p> </p><p>“My girlfriend in high school got me into it. She always made me watch it with her.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma turns her head to look at him, arching a brow. “Playboy Killian had a girlfriend once upon a time? I'm shocked.”</p><p> </p><p>He grimaces at the nickname. “Aye, believe it or not, I did.”</p><p> </p><p>“Did you love her?”</p><p> </p><p>He shakes his head. “I liked her a lot, but no, I didn’t love her. We weren’t together that long.”</p><p> </p><p>“So, what happened?”</p><p> </p><p>He shrugs. “We graduated high school and went our separate ways. I heard she recently got married.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma twists her lips in thought. “Hm, I see.”</p><p> </p><p>Killian cocks a brow. “What is <em>hm </em> supposed to mean?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing.” She reclines in her seat and faces him, resting her arm on the back of the couch. “You know what I think, Killian?”</p><p> </p><p>No, but he wishes he did. “What’s that?” he asks curiously, shifting to mirror her pose.</p><p> </p><p>“I think you’re going to find someone special someday. Someone who will flip your world upside down and make you fall so head over heels you won’t be able to imagine your life without her.”</p><p> </p><p>Killian stares at her, completely stunned. Little does she know, he’s already found that woman. But he obviously can’t tell her that. “You really believe that?”</p><p> </p><p>She nods, her eyes still locked with his. “I wholeheartedly believe that. I mean, look at me; I never thought I’d find a decent man and sure as hell never thought I’d be getting married. But exactly one year ago, I met your brother and never looked back.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know,” Killian says, trying to hide the bitterness in his tone. He wants to say she met him first but doesn’t. Instead, he bites his tongue like he always does. </p><p> </p><p>Emma breaks their trance and lowers her arm, reverting her attention to the show. Killian peels his eyes away from her, pretending like he doesn’t feel completely gutted as he watches Friends. </p><p> </p><p>He forces himself to laugh at the funny parts though and recites Chandler’s line when he says, </p><p> </p><p>“It’s me. I’m the other guy.” </p><p> </p><p>To his surprise, Emma is mimicking the words at the exact same time in a dramatic tone.</p><p> </p><p>He and Emma exchange a look, a smile curving her lips. “Look at us getting along. Liam will be so proud when he gets home,” she comments, nudging his elbow with hers. </p><p> </p><p>He offers a small smile. “Aye, he will.” A knock has Killian jumping up from the couch and springing for the door. “My first dinner is here.”</p><p> </p><p>To his astonishment, Emma rushes past him. “On second thought, I’m so hungry, I think I’ll have some of yours.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oi! You should've ordered more food,” Killian points out, hot on her heels.</p><p> </p><p>“You said yourself, we have to get along for Liam’s sake, so you can at least share your first dinner with me.”</p><p> </p><p>He tries to grab her arm and pull her away. But she flings open the door before he can stop her.</p><p> </p><p>They both immediately freeze when two police officers are standing there instead of the delivery person.</p><p> </p><p>His heart drops and he swallows hard, a horrible, sick feeling sitting in the pit of his stomach.</p><p> </p><p>“Hello, I’m Officer Humbert and this is my partner, Officer Knight. We’re looking for the family of Liam Jones.” </p><p> </p><p>The second the officer says his brother’s name, Killian’s heart stops beating. “I’m his brother and this is his fiancé,” he answers when Emma doesn’t.</p><p> </p><p>“What happened?” she finally manages, her words cracked. “Is he okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Officer Humbert glances at the ground before looking up at Emma, blowing out a long, shaky breath, as though he’s trying to gather the courage to break the news he so desperately doesn’t want to give. “I’m so sorry, miss.” He makes eye contact with Killian, apology flickering in his gaze. “Sir . . .”</p><p> </p><p>“What is it?” Killian demands, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest. His heart is so fucking loud, he can barely hear the words the officer says. </p><p> </p><p>The words he’s nowhere near prepared for.</p><p> </p><p>“Mr. Jones has been in a serious motorcycle accident. The paramedics were unable to save him.”</p><p> </p><p>The air is instantly sucked from the room.</p><p> </p><p>Emma is falling.</p><p> </p><p>Killian is numb, but he manages to catch her in his arms before she hits the floor.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Killian can't believe this is real. He just spoke to Liam a few hours ago. Hell, he had seen his brother that morning. So how can he be . . . how can he be dead?</p><p> </p><p>How is it possible?</p><p> </p><p>It feels like Killian is in one of those movies where there’s someone screaming, but their sounds are muted and replaced by background music. Only instead of music, it feels like a bomb just exploded near him. He can see the wreckage around him—he can see Emma screaming and sobbing—but he can’t hear anything except for the ringing in his ears. He can feel her body shake, feel her crumble in his arms, but he can’t feel the floor underneath his knees. </p><p> </p><p>Once the ringing in his ear finally subsides, he can hear Emma’s blood-curdling shrieks. His chest tightens and he can feel his throat threatening to close up. He can feel the pain and grief threatening to surge through him, but he refuses to give in to any of it. He wants to be strong for Emma. He <em> needs </em> to be strong for her. Because right now, he’s the only thing holding her up, so if he drowns, so will she. And he can’t let that happen. Even if he weren’t in love with her, she’s Liam’s fiancé and he would want Killian to take care of her. Protect her at all costs.</p><p> </p><p>“Just breathe, Emma,” he whispers in her ear as she gasps for air. “Just breathe.”</p><p> </p><p>After a moment of struggling for air, she’s able to regulate her breathing again. </p><p> </p><p>He looks up and sees the officers, who he’d forgotten all about. They tell him where Liam is being transported and that his next of kin will be notified by the medical examiner's office. Since Liam wasn’t yet married, his father is considered next of kin. The officers give their sincere apologies and condolences before they leave.</p><p> </p><p>It takes Killian several minutes to find the strength to move, to feel the need to move, but he finally rises from the floor with Emma, her face buried in her hands. He hooks one arm underneath her knees, secures the other around her back and picks her up. She wraps her arms around the back of his neck, her heart-wrenching sobs soaking his shirt as he kicks the door shut and carries her to the couch.</p><p> </p><p>His heart fucking hurts and his feet feel incredibly heavy as he makes his way across the room. Emma has a death grip around the back of his neck, her face feels like it’s superglued to his chest and even if he were able to peel her off of him, he wouldn’t want to. He sinks into the couch with Emma in his arms and she’s still clinging to him like her life depends on it.</p><p> </p><p>“Why?!” she starts screaming against him, her words muffled by his shirt. “Why, why, why?!” Her sobs intensify, her entire body trembling as another torrent of grief overtakes her body.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know, love,” he whispers into her hair as he strokes the back of her head and rocks her gently. “I don’t know.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, why did you let him use your bike?!” she shrieks, each word tearing up his heart. “You did this to him! You killed him!!!” She releases her grip on him and starts pounding on his chest with her fists; she pounds as hard as she can, and he lets her, not even bothering to stop her. He can’t even feel it, he’s still too numb to feel anything except unbearable sadness. He swallows hard and closes his eyes as he lets her use him as an emotional and physical punching bag, hoping it will help ease her pain if only a little.</p><p> </p><p>Emma whales on him until she no longer has the strength. Until she collapses against him and wraps her arms around him again, continuing to sob into his chest where she’d hit him. Killian squeezes her tight and buries his face in her hair, trying to fight off his own tears, trying to force himself to stay strong, but it’s hard when the woman he loves is hurting so badly. When she’s crying in his arms. The sounds make his heart bleed.</p><p> </p><p>There’s another knock on the door, but he doesn’t move to answer it. But Emma does. She removes herself from his lap and pulls open the door, tears streaming down her face, her eyes bloodshot and mascara streaking down her cheeks.</p><p> </p><p>“Is everything okay?” the delivery guy asks in concern. It’s the usual driver from their favorite Chinese place. </p><p> </p><p>Emma snatches the bag from his hands and spins around, heading back to the couch. </p><p> </p><p>Killian gets up and pulls out his wallet to give him a tip. “Sorry, mate, you caught us at a bad time,” he says shakily. “We just found out Liam was in a bad accident.”</p><p> </p><p>A worried expression washes over his face. “Oh man, what happened? Is he okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Killian swallows hard, unable to answer him, so instead, he just shakes his head. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m really sorry,” the other man says, reading the devastated expression on Killian’s face.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, mate.” When Killian shuts the door and heads back to the couch, the bag is on the coffee table but Emma doesn’t attempt to open it. Instead, her face is buried in her hands and she’s sobbing once more. Killian’s heart tightens as he opens the bag and offers her one of her crab rangoons just so she will have something in her belly. He, on the other hand, was starving half an hour ago, but can no longer stomach anything.</p><p> </p><p>“Emma, you should eat something.”</p><p> </p><p>She shakes her head against her palms. “I can’t. Please just take it away.”</p><p> </p><p>He replaces the Rangoon and puts the small bag into the larger one. He gets up and stores the food in the refrigerator. He’ll try to get her to eat again later. He blows out a shaky breath, and with trembling hands, he pulls out his phone. He has to let his father know what happened, rather than let him hear it from the medical examiner’s office, even though he won’t be able to in person. He walks over to Emma to let her know. She’s only talked to Brennan a couple of times in person. Once last year when Liam brought her with them to England for Christmas so he could introduce his father to the incredible woman he couldn’t stop bragging about, and then when Brennan came to visit them over the summer. She’s also chatted with him over the phone or through Zoom. He adores Emma and would’ve loved to have had her as a daughter-in-law. Killian’s heart wrenches at the thought and that his father was deprived of that chance.</p><p> </p><p>“Love, I’m going to call my father to let him know. Do you want to talk to him at all?”</p><p> </p><p>She shakes her head, her face still buried in her hands. “I can’t,” she chokes out, her words muffled by her palms.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright.” He goes into his bedroom so Emma doesn’t have to listen to him give his father the horrible news. But as he pulls up his father’s number, he’s not sure how to make this call. </p><p> </p><p>Even though Brennan would never say it out loud, Killian knows Liam was always the favorite. He was always the good son who had good grades and never got into trouble or at least never got caught getting into trouble. He was the high school quarterback while Killian was sneaking behind the bleachers to get high with his friends. One time Killian had to call Liam in the middle of the night to bail him out of jail because he was caught drinking underage. They were both living in the States at the time, where the legal age is twenty-one. Liam swore he would never tell their father because then Brennan would’ve been even more disappointed in him. And Liam kept his promise; he always kept his promises. He was a good man. Which makes this even more difficult to swallow. </p><p> </p><p>Why did it have to be Liam? He was too young; he had a full life ahead of him. He always talked about having kids someday and was going to make a fine husband. </p><p> </p><p>So how in the world is Killian going to tell his father that his favorite son is no longer alive? How is he going to tell his father that this is all Killian’s fault? Brennan never wanted him to buy that damn motorcycle in the first place, but after he graduated high school and moved to the States to go to college, Brennan couldn’t exactly stop him from purchasing it. Now he wishes he would’ve listened to his father. Because maybe then, Liam would still be alive.</p><p> </p><p>Tears threaten to take over again, but he chokes them down in order to make this call.</p><p> </p><p>“Killian?” his father answers after a few rings, his voice laced with sleep. “It’s almost one in the morning here,” he points out in a condemning tone. </p><p> </p><p>He has no idea what’s coming.</p><p> </p><p>“I know, Papa.” Killian pauses for a minute in order to gather the strength and courage to deliver the news that will change his father’s life.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s going on, Killian? Why are you calling me so late?”</p><p> </p><p>“Because . . .” He inhales another deep breath. “It’s Liam. He was in a motorcycle accident,” he says gravely, surprised he could even wrench the words from his throat.</p><p> </p><p>“What? A motorcycle accident?” Killian can hear the confusion in his father’s tone. “Liam doesn’t have a motorcycle.”</p><p> </p><p>“Aye, but I do,” he manages, his words cracked. Or <em>did,</em> at least. “He wanted to borrow it, so I let him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why would he want to ride that thing? It’s too dangerous,” his father chastises in an angry tone. “Where is he? In the hospital?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, Papa,” Killian replies quietly, trying to gulp down the devastation and sorrow consuming him. “Liam didn’t make it,” he manages in a faint whisper.</p><p> </p><p>There’s a long pause on the other line. </p><p> </p><p>Killian closes his eyes, his breaths shaky, his knuckles probably white from gripping the phone so tight.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, he can hear his father sobbing, and it fucking breaks his heart. “I’m sorry, Papa,” Killian whispers. “I’m so sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why was he on it, Killian?! Why?!” His father’s words are cracked as he speaks through his tears.</p><p> </p><p>“Because he wanted to take Emma for a ride.”</p><p> </p><p>His father gasps. “Oh my Gods. Emma . . . is she . . .” Brennan can’t get the rest of the words out, but Killian knows what he’s about to ask. </p><p> </p><p>Then it hits him like a ton of bricks.</p><p> </p><p>Emma was supposed to be on the motorcycle when Liam came home. Instead, she went dress shopping with Mary Margaret. Who knows what would’ve happened to her if she was riding on it with Liam at the time he got into that accident. She could’ve died too. He feels sick. As much as Killian’s heart is already aching, he can’t even imagine the pain he’d be feeling if he had lost both of them. Losing his brother is fucking devastating enough, but the woman he loves, too? He can’t fathom it.</p><p> </p><p>He can’t even fathom <em> this. </em></p><p> </p><p>“Emma’s fine. She wasn’t with him at the time of the accident.”</p><p> </p><p>Brennan breathes a deep, shaky sigh of relief. “Thank Gods.”</p><p> </p><p>“Papa, there’s something else I have to tell you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Please, Killian, I can’t take any more bad news. Please don’t.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not bad, I promise. I was just going to tell you that before the accident, Liam proposed to Emma. She said yes.”</p><p> </p><p>“Bloody hell,” his father breathes through the phone. “She must be devastated, losing her fiancé on the same day she agreed to marry him. What a fucking nightmare.”</p><p> </p><p>“Aye, she’s . . . she's completely devastated.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll get on the next available flight. Don’t worry about the funeral arrangements, at least not until I get there.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll help out in any way I can, Papa,” he promises in a gruff voice. “I’m so sorry this happened. I should have never agreed to let him use my bike.” He knows he's not to blame for his brother's death though. Liam was a big boy and capable of making his own decisions</p><p> </p><p>“Killian, you can’t blame yourself, okay? You need to stay strong. Take care of Emma, will you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course I will.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good. Do you know what happened? The specifics, I mean?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, the medical examiner’s office will contact you with the details.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay. I’ll let you know when I hear from them.”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Thanks, Papa.” Killian squeezes his eyes shut to fight off the tears threatening once more. “I love you,” he whispers.</p><p> </p><p>“I love you, too, son. We’ll get through this, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Killian nods. “I hope so.”</p><p> </p><p>When he ends the call, Killian goes to the living room to check on Emma. She’s curled up into a ball on the couch and appears to be a completely different woman than she was an hour ago. She was so happy and full of life, and now she's completely broken. Her eyes are glossy and red-rimmed, her cheeks are stained with mascara and tears, but she’s not crying at the moment. She’s just staring vacantly into space.</p><p> </p><p>“I called my father. He’s getting on the next available flight.” Killian kneels down in front of her as she stays completely still and silent. Not even moving an inch. </p><p> </p><p>He swipes some hair from her face, tucking the loose strands behind her ear. She doesn’t even blink. The only indication she’s still alive is her slow, ragged breaths, which he can feel on his nose. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m so sorry, Emma,” he whispers shakily. But he's not sure why he's apologizing. He's hurting just as much as she is, he's just better at hiding his despair than she is at hiding her own, but only so he can help keep her afloat. He knows there's nothing he can do or say that would make any of this any better. And he hates it. He hates that there is nothing he can possibly do to take away her pain and suffering. It’s fucking killing him inside. He would die a thousand times if it meant her pain would disappear. Hell, he would trade places with Liam in a heartbeat.</p><p> </p><p>“It's not your fault, Killian,” she croaks, a stoic expression on her face. “I'm sorry I blamed you.”</p><p> </p><p>Killian's heart is already in a million pieces, but hearing her apologize for something she did while she was in shock—shock which resulted from losing her fiancé, the man she loves, on the day he proposed to her—breaks his heart into a million and one pieces. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey, there's no need to apologize, love.”</p><p> </p><p>He wants to hold her in his arms and let her cry until she's happy again, even if it takes an entire lifetime. But for now, he can at least be here for her. Lord knows he owes her that much and a hell of a lot more with the way he's treated her over the last year. </p><p> </p><p>He rises from the floor and sits on the sofa, scooping her up into his arms. He's expecting her to push him away, but instead, she submits to him willingly and buries her face into the crook of his neck, her arms wrapped tightly around him as she cries uncontrollably into his shirt. </p><p> </p><p>He rubs circles over her back and whispers into her ear over and over again, “It'll be okay, everything will be okay,” but he's not sure who he's trying to convince more of this—Emma or himself. </p><p> </p><p>Who is he kidding, though? Liam’s gone, so how could things possibly be okay?</p><p> </p><p>It’s after two in the morning when Emma stops trembling, when her sobs cease. He lifts her hand, brushing his lips over her knuckles, and she doesn’t move, so that’s how he knows she’s asleep. Her face is still buried in his neck, so he grabs the couch pillow and places it on his lap. He drops a kiss to her disheveled hair, carefully lowers her head to the pillow and grabs the throw blanket from the back of the couch, covering her with it. Since he’s sitting up, he’s not exactly in a good position to sleep comfortably, but he doesn’t care. As long as Emma is able to escape from her new, heart-wrenching reality, even if only for a few hours, well, that’s all that matters. He watches her sleep, trying to take his mind off of everything and just focus on her and helping her get through this. He combs his fingers through her hair, his thumb tracing her cheek as she sleeps.</p><p> </p><p>It works for a while. But then his mind drifts to the bag on his bed and his heart tightens. Before, he had his reasons to leave. But now? The thought of leaving Emma to pick up the broken pieces of her heart by herself makes him nauseous. There is nothing in the world that could get him to leave now. And not because he’s in love with her or hoping for a chance to be with her someday now that his brother is gone, but because she’s Liam’s fiancé and Liam would want him to take care of her. He has no plans of stealing Emma or seeking something romantic from her now that Liam is gone. She is and will always be Liam’s, even long after his death. </p><p> </p><p>~*~</p><p> </p><p>Waking up the next morning is the hardest thing she’s ever had to do, next to hearing the officer tell her Liam didn’t survive the accident. Waking up from dreams about Liam and a wonderful life they could’ve had. Planning their wedding, the buzzing anticipation of their big day, exchanging vows, heading off on their honeymoon and their first big adventure as husband and wife. When she'd finally cried herself to sleep in Killian's arms, she'd slipped into her heavenly dreams, but now she's waking up to her own personal hell. A nightmare she can't escape until she sleeps again.</p><p> </p><p>When Mary Margaret took her dress shopping yesterday, Emma pulled her into a jewelry store so she could look at men’s wedding bands. She had found the perfect one for her fiancé. It was a white gold band with a ruby stone. She didn’t take the ring home, but she put a downpayment on it to hold it until she could pay it in full. She was sure he would’ve loved it. But truthfully, he would’ve loved any ring she could’ve picked for him. As long as he got to marry her, he would've been happy. They both would’ve been so happy and in love and excited to start their happy beginning. </p><p> </p><p>This was supposed to be the beginning of their love story. Not the fucking end.</p><p> </p><p>She had even imagined when they bought a house that Liam would want Killian to have his own room, maybe in an attached structure that would be just Killian’s. Liam and Emma would’ve had many babies and Uncle Killian would've helped take care of them. They would’ve been a big, happy family.</p><p> </p><p>But now?</p><p> </p><p>Now, all of her dreams are up in flames as she's hit with the cruel reality that Liam is gone . . . he’s gone and he’s never coming back. <em> Ever. </em></p><p> </p><p>The reality slams into her like a freight train and immediately makes her eyes sting with tears. It makes her heart feel so heavy and it’s so fucking painful to do something simple, such as take a breath. Or open her heavy-lidded eyes, or sit up, or scan her surroundings only to realize she’s not waking up in her and Liam’s bedroom with him lying next to her, cuddling with her, peppering her with soft kisses and coaxing her into staying in bed all morning. </p><p> </p><p>It’s all so goddamn painful.</p><p> </p><p>How could this happen to such a good man? He was so good and pure and he loved her so much. Men like him are rare. And now he’s gone.</p><p> </p><p>Now she has no fucking clue what to do.</p><p> </p><p>The smells of coffee and sausage waft through the apartment as Emma pushes the blanket aside and plants her feet on the floor. Her cheeks are stained and she’s sure her stiff frown will be permanently fixed to her face from here on out. Even the thought of smiling makes her feel like a terrible person. How can she possibly smile when her fiancé is dead?</p><p> </p><p>“Morning, love. Are you hungry?”</p><p> </p><p>Killian’s voice startles her and she turns around in her seat to see him approaching the couch with a plate of food and a cup of coffee.</p><p> </p><p>Emma shakes her head. “Thank you for cooking, but I can’t eat anything.” She shifts around again, facing the blank television, seeing her reflection in the screen. Even her dark reflection looks miserable. And normally, she would care about how she looks in front of Liam’s brother, she would’ve wanted to at least wash her face and brush her hair. But right now, she doesn’t give two flying fucks about her appearance or what Killian thinks of her.</p><p> </p><p>“Emma . . .” His voice is pleading with her as he sets the plate and mug on the coffee table and sits next to her. “You need to eat something.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma scoffs. Food is the last thing she needs. What she needs is her Liam back. What she needs is for everything to go back to normal. The normal where Liam is alive and breathing and walking around. “You don’t know what I need,” she mutters bitterly, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Liam knew what I needed. He knew me better than I knew myself,” she says quietly, staring off into space. </p><p> </p><p>Killian sucks in a shaky breath. “Look, love, I know it’s hard, okay? All of this is going to be hard, but you need your strength to get through the day. We have to tell David and Mary Margaret, so you should at least get something in your stomach. I made your favorite.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma eyes the plate of food, seeing the golden brown omelet. It smells good, and if it really were her favorite, it would have sausage and cheese and peppers in it. Liam used to make it for her all the time. But she tries not to think about that. Killian’s right. She’s going to need her strength to face her brother and sister-in-law to tell them the terrible news. Liam and David were good friends; hell David is the reason she met Liam that night. </p><p> </p><p>It took her brother some time to deal with the fact that his good friend and sister were dating, but he eventually came around to the idea. David said if he had to choose someone for her, he would pick Liam in a heartbeat. Emma and Liam were so relieved to learn this. Especially since they no longer had to hide their relationship from her brother or Mary Margaret. Lord knows that woman can’t keep a secret to save her life. Especially from her husband.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks,” Emma murmurs.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re welcome.” Killian places the plate on her lap and stands up, heading for the bathroom.</p><p> </p><p>She picks at the food after a minute. She takes a few bites and sips her coffee, but even though it really is her favorite thing to eat for breakfast—even her coffee has the correct amount of creamer she prefers—just tasting the food makes her feel nauseous. Even though it actually tastes delicious. But she can’t stomach anything at the moment. So, she sets the plate on the coffee table and lays across the couch, hugging her knees like she’d done yesterday. She has a feeling this will be her new routine for a while. Killian trying to force her to eat, her trying to take a few bites before she gives up, and then laying back down, feeling completely numb and sick to her stomach.</p><p> </p><p>When Killian returns and sees the effort she’d made on the omelet, he asks if she's done with it. She manages a nod—another thing that used to be such a simple gesture, but now is a struggle. She can tell he’s not satisfied with her answer, but they both know any more attempts to get her to eat will be useless. She’s never had any problems eating a sausage omelet. </p><p> </p><p>He takes the plate and stores the leftovers in the refrigerator. Emma can’t find the strength to pick up her phone to call or even text her brother and sister-in-law, so Killian calls them. He’d texted them yesterday from her phone to let them know dinner was canceled, but he didn’t tell them why. She didn’t want to tell them via text, she doesn’t even want to tell them in person, but she knows she has to.</p><p> </p><p>“They’ll be here in twenty minutes, love,” Killian informs, handing Emma her phone.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks,” she mutters weakly.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re welcome, love.” Killian scratches behind his ear, and she can tell he’s either hesitant or nervous about something.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” she prompts, furrowing her brows.</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing, it's just . . .” He pauses, inhaling an uneven breath. “Do you want me to start the shower for you?”</p><p> </p><p>Emma is even more confused as she studies him carefully and frowns. “What are you trying to say? Do I stink?” She sniffs her armpits but doesn’t notice an unpleasant stench. She just smells like her deodorant. </p><p> </p><p>“No, that’s not what I was implying. I just . . . I didn’t know if you wanted to change and clean up before your brother and sister-in-law get here.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma peers down at herself. Her heart clenches when she notices she’s still wearing the dress she’d worn for Valentine’s Day. The dress she’d put on last night when she was envisioning a future with her incredible fiancé. Her stomach had been full of butterflies, and she couldn’t wait for him to get home so they could celebrate their engagement with family. She was on cloud nine, as Killian had worded it when he anticipated how Liam was feeling yesterday after he’d proposed to her.</p><p> </p><p>A rogue tear slides down Emma’s cheek.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry, Emma. I didn’t mean any offense. I think you look perfect.”</p><p> </p><p>She looks up at him, flashing a scowl. “You don’t have to lie to make me feel better. You can just say it. I look like shit.”</p><p> </p><p>“I wasn’t thinking that,” he assures, giving into a sheepish smile. “More like a disaster,” he teases, a playful ring in his tone.</p><p> </p><p>Emma frowns and sighs. “You’re right. I should clean up and change. Otherwise, I’ll be a dead giveaway as soon as they come through the door.” Emma claps a hand over her mouth. Her eyes are wide and apologetic. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to . . .”</p><p> </p><p>Killian offers a sad smile and his hand. “It’s okay, Emma.”</p><p> </p><p>She drops her hand and slips it into his, letting him help her up from the couch. She trudges to her bedroom to gather a change of clothes. Emma rounds the corner of the bed, and her eyes fill with tears when she sees Liam’s jeans and shirt on the floor and the coins he’d emptied from his pockets before he took off his pants a couple days ago. Tears spill down her cheeks, and she doesn’t even bother to pick up his clothes. Instead, she quickly grabs her things and hurries out of the room, all the memories she and Liam shared in that room too painful to handle at the moment. </p><p> </p><p>When she steps into the bathroom, the shower is already running and she knows Killian had turned it on like he said he would. She steps in front of the mirror before the steam fogs up the room. When she sees her reflection, she audibly gasps. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> What the fuck?  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She really does look like a disaster. No, disaster is too kind a word. She looks like a fucking trainwreck. No wonder Killian said something to her and suggested she shower. If Emma wasn’t so fucking sad, she would laugh at Killian’s roundabout attempt to tell her she looks like shit.</p><p> </p><p>As soon as her dress and panties are off, she steps under the shower stream, immediately squeezing her eyes shut and letting the water hit her face. She's never been so relieved to take a shower, not even the times in college when she woke from those nasty hangovers.</p><p> </p><p>God, what she would give to have some vodka at the moment to drown the pain and sorrow she feels. But no, alcohol is not the answer. It may have been the answer to recovering from a long week of classes, studying and doing homework, and getting over her asshole of an ex-boyfriend, but it’s not the answer to feeling better after Liam’s death. Nothing could possibly make her feel better. No, it’s only going to take a lot of time and tears and getting used to sleeping alone and having a permanently broken heart to even feel half like herself again.</p><p> </p><p>When Emma’s thoroughly washed and rinsed, she shuts off the shower and steps out of the tub. Then a thought hits her suddenly, making her want to sob again. For the first time since she was eight years old, Emma didn't sing in the shower. She didn’t even feel the need to. In fact, the thought of singing after Liam’s death makes her feel sick. It would’ve felt so wrong.</p><p> </p><p>She pulls her hair into a messy bun and slips into her sweatpants, a bra and a tank top before heading into the living room where Killian is sitting on the couch with his phone in his hands.</p><p> </p><p>~*~</p><p> </p><p>“Better?”</p><p> </p><p>The sound of her voice pulls him from his troubled thoughts. He stands and turns around, offering a small smile. “You clean up quite nicely, Emma,” he says, which isn’t exactly the truth. But he can’t exactly say what he’s actually thinking. She looks ravishing, almost like her old self again, apart from the bags under her eyes and the pain in her emerald depths.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks,” she murmurs and walks over to the couch.</p><p> </p><p>“I called the bar and told Ruby.”</p><p> </p><p>“How did she take it?” Emma asks as she takes a seat next to him, worry lacing her words.</p><p> </p><p>Killian runs a hand through his tousled hair and sighs heavily. “Not well.” </p><p> </p><p>After Liam gave Ruby another chance—or rather, several chances—she finally stepped up to the plate and covered for Liam on several occasions when he wanted to spend time with Emma. Before her, his main focus had always been the bar. He had big dreams and high hopes for the establishment, but after he met Emma, she became his main focus. His dreams went from spending almost every waking hour at the bar to spending every waking hour working toward having a white picket fence future with the woman of his dreams and having a big backyard for his kids to run around in. So, after Ruby started showing potential to handle the bar on her own, he made her a manager, handing off a huge load of responsibilities from his shoulders. But now that Liam’s gone, his ownership will transfer according to his will. Liam had always joked about passing the baton to Killian if something ever happened to him, but he wonders if Liam actually did so. </p><p> </p><p>Killian can’t think about that right now. The thought of being responsible for a business while he’s grieving for his brother makes his head spin. Ruby assured him she would handle everything at the bar for the time being until ownership is sorted out. He’s so grateful for that.</p><p> </p><p>When there’s a knock on the door, he rises from the couch, trying to figure out how he’s going to break the news to David that his good friend is gone.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Liam is actually gone. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Killian still can’t believe it. When he woke that morning, he was briefly convinced yesterday was all a terrible nightmare, but his neck was stiff from sleeping on the couch in a sitting position and Emma’s head was still in his lap like it had been last night. And the sting in his heart was still there.</p><p> </p><p>When David and Mary Margaret step inside the apartment, they look at Emma first and can easily detect the devastation in her features. Then they look at Killian, who has the same devastated expression.</p><p> </p><p>“What happened? Where’s Liam?” David demands in an impatient tone. “Why was the engagement dinner canceled last night? You’ve both been very vague about it.”</p><p> </p><p>Killian exchanges a look with Emma, and she’s silently pleading with him to be the one to tell them. He knows she still doesn’t have the strength to.</p><p> </p><p>Killian sucks in a deep breath and gestures to the living room. “You both should have a seat for this.”</p><p> </p><p>“Emma, what’s going on?” Mary Margaret asks her. “You look like you’ve been crying.”</p><p> </p><p>“Just sit and we’ll tell you.”</p><p> </p><p>David raises his hands in resistance. “Stop stalling and just tell us. Where’s Liam?” he asks again.</p><p> </p><p>Killian drops his eyes, trying to fight back the tears as he summons the courage to break the news. “He was in a terrible motorcycle accident.” </p><p> </p><p>“What?” they question in unison.</p><p> </p><p>“Is he okay?” Mary Margaret asks.</p><p> </p><p>“Is he in the hospital?” David demands.</p><p> </p><p>Killian is sweating profusely as he looks up at them and rubs the back of his neck, exhaling a shaky breath. “He died at the scene. Officers showed up last night to tell us.” </p><p> </p><p>“Oh my God!” Mary Margaret covers her mouth with both hands, tears springing to her eyes. Emma leaps from her spot on the couch to throw her arms around her. “Emma, I’m so sorry.” </p><p> </p><p>“Are you serious?” David asks Killian, still trying to process this.</p><p> </p><p>He nods slightly. “I’m afraid so.” </p><p> </p><p>“Fuck,” David whispers and pulls Emma and his wife into his arms. “I’m so sorry, sis.”</p><p> </p><p>The three of them are hugging and crying, and David is kissing his sister's forehead, he and his wife expressing their deepest condolences.</p><p> </p><p>Killian feels uncomfortable, not sure what to do, so he just stands there awkwardly. Emma must sense this because she looks over at him through teary eyes and breaks away from David and Mary Margaret, leading them to the kitchen table.</p><p> </p><p>Killian takes a seat across from Emma. </p><p> </p><p>“Do you know what happened?” David asks.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, my father spoke with the medical examiner this morning. The investigation is still ongoing, but a car pulled out in front of Liam and when he swerved to avoid the vehicle ahead of him, he was struck by a semi-truck going sixty miles an hour. He was wearing a helmet, but nothing could've saved his life at that speed. He was dead before the paramedics arrived at the scene.”</p><p> </p><p>“But how?” Mary Margaret croaks, still in shock, tears staining her cheeks. “He went home from our place. We only live twenty minutes away.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know,” Killian murmurs sadly as he looks at Emma from across the table. “And according to his time and place of death, he went straight home.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, Emma,” Mary Margaret shrieks suddenly as she turns to look at her and takes her hand which is resting on the table. “You could've been with him! You were supposed to be with him, but I offered to take you shopping instead!”</p><p> </p><p>Killian can tell the reminder of this makes Emma wince, and she closes her eyes trying to fight off another bout of tears.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m so glad you weren’t with him, Emma. If we lost both of you . . .” David pauses when his voice cracks and he’s unable to finish his sentence. He takes her other hand on the table, whispering, “Fuck.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma surprises everyone when she snatches her hands from theirs and shoots up from the table, sprinting out of the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>“Emma?” Mary Margaret calls after her, but she slams the bathroom door behind her.</p><p> </p><p>Worry grips Killian’s heart as he stands from his chair. “I’ll check on her.”</p><p> </p><p>David shakes his head and stands up. “Don’t bother. I’ll check on her. I’m her brother,” he states, as though this is some kind of contest as to who has the right to console Emma during her darkest moments. “In fact, I think Emma should come home with us.”</p><p> </p><p>Killian balls his hand into a fist, anger pulsing through him. “I think we should let Emma decide.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine. I'm sure she’d rather be with us than a roommate who’s caused her nothing but grief for the past year.”</p><p> </p><p>Killian raises his voice. “She needs a friend right now. Someone who understands what she’s going through. Emma and I both love Liam more than anything else in this world.”</p><p> </p><p>“What she needs is family, people who can comfort her and offer a loving home, not some manwhore who has a revolving bedroom door for random women he picks up at his brother’s bar.”</p><p> </p><p>Killian’s blood is pounding through his veins as he glares at David. “Really? You want to do this now after my brother just died? Now is really not the time to piss me off, mate,” he warns through gritted teeth.</p><p> </p><p>David points a finger at Killian with an accusatory glare. “If it wasn't for your damn motorcycle, Liam would still be alive!”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> That’s it. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Killian charges toward David, ready to strike him in the jaw, but Mary Margaret stands between them with her arms out, begging them to stop. </p><p> </p><p>“Ripping each other’s heads off is not going to bring him back,” she says, glancing between them, her eyes pleading with them. “Liam was a grown-ass adult and made his own decision to use the motorcycle. This isn’t anyone’s fault, so you two need to cool your jets, put your petty differences aside and get along for two goddamn seconds so your sister,” she says, looking at David before shifting her gaze to Killian, “and your brother’s fiancé—so all of us—can grieve in peace.”</p><p> </p><p>David relaxes, slumping his shoulders in defeat, and Killian takes the opportunity to rush to the bathroom before David can move from his spot. </p><p> </p><p>He taps softly on the door. “Emma? You alright, love?”</p><p> </p><p>“Go away,” she calls through the door.</p><p> </p><p>“Emma, please. . .” he begs, his words cracked as he leans against the door. “Just tell me you’re okay.”</p><p> </p><p>Before he knows what’s happening, he’s stumbling forward, almost falling onto the bathroom floor before he regains his footing.</p><p> </p><p>Emma’s standing there, glaring at him. “I’m not okay! My fiancé just died. And I know you can’t possibly understand loving someone so much that your entire world—everything you know—just disintegrates around you when you lose them, but can you please just let me not be okay for five bloody seconds?!”</p><p> </p><p>Guilt and regret wash over him, and he steps forward, his eyes full of apology. Her words stung, but she’s right. He can’t possibly imagine what she’s going through. He loved Liam but she was <em>in love </em>with him.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry, Emma. You’re right. I don’t understand. But I just want you to know, I’m here for you. Whatever you need, I’ll do what it takes to give it to you. I know Liam would want me to take care of you so that’s what I’m trying to do here. So can you please let me do that? For him?”</p><p> </p><p>Regret clouds her jaded eyes before she pinches them shut. “I’m sorry, Killian. I didn't mean to go off on you, I just . . .”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, hey, hey,” he coos, cupping her cheeks in his hands. “You don’t have to apologize.” He stares into her eyes when she opens them. “And don’t get me wrong, I’m not taking care of you out of obligation. Believe it or not, I’ve grown to care about you in the last year we’ve spent together.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah right,” she says sarcastically, cracking a small smile. </p><p> </p><p>He chuckles. “It’s true. I just have a weird way of showing my affection.”</p><p> </p><p>“Obviously,” she remarks sassily.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s true. Why do you think I always picked on Liam every chance I got?”</p><p> </p><p>Her features grow serious. “I just always thought you hated me.”</p><p> </p><p>Guilt surges through him, and his heart aches even more than it already does, but he knows he has no one to blame for her thinking that, other than himself. “No, love. I never hated you.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma pulls away and plants her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes at him. “Then why were you always such an ass, and now you're suddenly nice after Liam is gone? You want to take care of me now, but where was that sweet, caring Killian before? Why did it take Liam’s death to bring this side out of you, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>Killian cups the back of his neck and peers down at the floor, not sure how to answer that without spilling the truth.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait, don’t answer that. I think I know why.”</p><p> </p><p>His eyes widen as he glances up at her and swallows hard. “You do?” Worry pulses through him. Has he been that transparent all this time?</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, because you thought I was trying to steal your brother away, didn’t you?” Emma raises her hands, gesturing to their surroundings. “This was yours and Liam’s bachelor pad, and then I came in, ‘sprinkling all my girly crap like fairy dust’,” she says, using air quotes to imitate how he had described her belongings to Milah yesterday. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Bloody hell.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He can’t believe that was only yesterday. Because at the time, Liam was still alive and breathing, he was in the shower with thoughts of Emma and the upcoming proposal.</p><p> </p><p>Killian opens his mouth to deny her assumption, but then he thinks about that for a moment. Though she’s wrong, it’s a perfectly valid explanation for why he’s been such a dickhead to her. And he can’t tell her the truth, so instead, he nods and pretends to be guilty. “Aye, love, you caught me. I was jealous Liam was spending all of his free time with you instead of me, so I took my bitterness out on you. But it was stupid of me to do. You made Liam happy and I know what Liam and I had could never be replaced . . . even by you. No offense,” he adds playfully. <em> Wow, that was some good improvisation. </em> “But I want to make it up to you,” he says sincerely. “Which is why I want you to stay . . . well, it’s not the only reason. I don’t want you to have to go through this alone, and you and I . . . we understand each other. We both love Liam more than anyone else in this world.”</p><p> </p><p>She arches a brow. “But Killian, I don’t expect you to take care of me. I don’t want to be a burden on you.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re not, Emma. I can promise you that. You could never be a burden. I want you to stay. Like I told Milah, this place is as much yours as it is mine.”</p><p> </p><p>She crosses her arms over her chest, eyeing him doubtfully. “You mean that?”</p><p> </p><p>He nods. “I do.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, Killian,” she murmurs with a sigh of relief and unfolds her arms to wrap them around him. </p><p> </p><p>He curls his arms around her small frame and caresses her hair. “Of course, love.” She smells so good, like cherries and vanilla and he wants to get lost in her scent. In her warmth.</p><p> </p><p>“Emma?” Her brother’s voice causes them to pull apart. “You okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“No,” she answers bluntly. “But, I’m still here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Look, sis . . . Mary Margaret and I have been talking and we think you should stay with us.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not leaving,” she states firmly. “This apartment is my home.” She places her hand on Killian’s shoulder, causing warmth to spread to his heart and his cheeks. <em> “Our </em> home.”</p><p> </p><p>“But Emma—”</p><p> </p><p>Emma puts up a hand to dismiss whatever he’s going to say. “You can’t protect me, David. I’m not a little girl anymore. No matter how much you want to shield me from everything, you just can’t. I could’ve been on that motorcycle with Liam and there’s nothing you could’ve done to prevent me from getting hurt or worse.”</p><p> </p><p>“Emma, I know I just—”</p><p> </p><p>“I know, you’re just looking out for me because you’re my older brother and that’s your job, but if you really want to look out for me, then you’ll let me grieve in the way I need to grieve. You’ll accept that this is my home and that I’m not leaving.”</p><p> </p><p>David stares at her, the silence thick between them for a moment. Finally, he sighs in defeat. “Fine, if that’s what you want.”</p><p> </p><p>When she nods, he glances at Killian and points a finger at him. “You better take care of my sister. And I don’t want you bringing your parade of women around here. Take them elsewhere. Emma shouldn't have to deal with that.”</p><p> </p><p>“David!” Emma reprimands, glaring at him. “You can’t tell him what to do in his own apartment!”</p><p> </p><p>Killian should be pissed that David would feel the need to say that, but he only has himself to blame. He created his own reputation, so he’s the only one who can fix it. “It’s fine, Emma,” he assures her. “Your brother is right, you shouldn’t have to deal with that.” He looks at David. “You won’t have to worry about that. I have no plans of bringing anyone here . . . at least not for a while.” Or ever again.</p><p> </p><p>“Good.”</p><p> </p><p>David and Mary Margaret stay through the afternoon, and after they leave, Emma goes back to the couch and lays down with the television on as background noise. He tries to get her to eat again, but she only takes a few bites of the Chinese food he’d ordered yesterday.</p><p> </p><p>After he replaces the to-go containers in the refrigerator, he returns to the living room just as she picks up the remote to turn off the television. </p><p> </p><p>“Going to bed, love?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, I’m sleeping here. I can’t go in there.” </p><p> </p><p>He walks around the couch to see Emma pinch her eyes shut, her bottom lip visibly trembling. </p><p> </p><p>“I can’t sleep in the bed we shared with his side now bare and cold. The sheets and pillows still smell like him. It’s just too painful to go in there.”</p><p> </p><p>He scratches behind his ear, not wanting to push the issue on her, but he also wants her to get a good night’s sleep. “Why don’t you take my room then?”</p><p> </p><p>She opens her eyes, wrinkling her nose. “And sleep in the same bed a hundred other women have slept in? I don’t think so.”</p><p> </p><p>“I have an extra set of sheets that are clean. I’ll swap them out.”</p><p> </p><p>She looks at him in shock, like she’s surprised he would even offer. “And flip the mattress?”</p><p> </p><p>“Aye,” he says with a small chuckle.</p><p> </p><p>Emma purses her lips, considering his proposal.</p><p> </p><p>“Would you like me to spray the bed with Lysol and light candles? I’ll do that, too.”</p><p> </p><p>She doesn’t answer right away, still studying him with an ambivalent expression.</p><p> </p><p>“Well? Do you want to take my bed or not?”</p><p> </p><p>“But where would you sleep?” she finally says.</p><p> </p><p>He shrugs. “On the couch.”</p><p> </p><p>The lines on her forehead crease. “But this couch is barely big enough for me, and I’m not even that tall. You need a good night’s sleep, too. Did you even go to bed last night?”</p><p> </p><p>He shakes his head, his eyes softening. “No, I fell asleep sitting up on the couch . . . underneath you,” he adds, unsure about whether he should’ve told her that. He doesn’t wish for her to feel bad, nor does he want her to feel sorry for him. “But you don’t have to worry about me, love. I’m a survivor.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma sits up and frowns. “How about this—I’ll take your bed if you take mine?”</p><p> </p><p>Killian’s heart clenches at the thought of sleeping in the same bed his brother and Emma slept in together and often made love in. “And sleep in the same bed you and Liam had an endless amount of sex in?”</p><p> </p><p>Emma’s face clouds and he immediately regrets his idiotic comment. </p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, love. I shouldn't have said that.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, it’s fine. You're right. I’ll just give you clean sheets, too.”</p><p> </p><p>Killian sighs dramatically in relief that she agreed to sleep in a bed instead of the bloody awful couch. “Thank Gods.” He shakes his head. “I never had to negotiate with a woman to get her into my bed before. For a second, I thought I was going to have to get down on my knees and beg.”</p><p> </p><p>She rolls her eyes. “For a second, I thought you were actually being a gentleman.”</p><p> </p><p>He points to himself and smirks. “I’m always a gentleman.” </p><p> </p><p>She sighs and gets up from the couch, so Killian goes to his room and throws his bag to the floor. He removes the bedding and flips the mattress, putting on fresh, clean sheets as he’d promised.</p><p> </p><p>A moment later, Emma enters his room in her pajamas, carrying folded sheets and handing them to him. </p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, love.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re welcome. And thank you for letting me use your bed.”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course. It’s all yours.” He steps up to her and presses a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Let me know if you need anything else.”</p><p> </p><p>He can tell she tries to smile, but they both know he could never give her what she needs. Because what she needs is to have the love of her life back. But all he can do is make sure she gets through this. Make sure they help each other get through this.</p><p> </p><p>“Tomorrow's another day, love. We’ll get through this. We’ll weather the storm together,” he assures her.</p><p> </p><p>“We have to,” she says, going to the bed and pulling back the covers. “We don’t have any other choice.” When Emma slips into bed, he heads out of the room, shutting off the light before he leaves and closes the door.</p><p> </p><p>He goes to her bedroom and strips away his clothes until he’s down to his boxers. He changes the sheets but leaves the pillowcases alone. One smells like Emma and the other one smells like Liam, so he lays his head in the center of them, comforted by the familiar scents of both as he attempts to get some shut-eye. But he’s not sure that will happen, especially since he can hear Emma crying in his room.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Damn paper-thin walls. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Gods, it fucking kills him to hear her gut-wrenching sobs and whimpers, and it takes all the strength within him to not get up, go into his room and slip into bed to hold her and comfort her, but he doesn’t want to overstep his boundaries. So instead, he just turns to his other side and listens to her cry. Even though it breaks his fucking heart. </p><p> </p><p>He never thought he’d be wishing this, but he’d take Emma and Liam’s sounds of pleasure and lovemaking over the sounds of Emma grieving for her dead fiancé—his brother—every single time. He could deal with that agony, he’s had to deal with that for an entire year, so he could deal with the woman he loves being with his brother—at least then, she was happy and Liam was alive—but he still has no fucking idea how he’s ever going to deal with the agony of never being able to see or talk to or hang out with his brother ever again.</p><p> </p><p>That's an agony he may never recover from. Not even with time.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So I know I have many other wips to update and I promise I am working on updating them all, but this one kept nagging me to update so I eventually acquiesced. And I'm not gonna lie, this one's gonna hurt so please grab the tissues. Seriously, go. You're gonna need them. The next chapters get better, I promise :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Emma’s been dreading this day since she found out her fiancé was dead.</p><p>For some people, funerals are a way of saying goodbye or for celebrating and memorializing their deceased loved one’s life. But for her, it will only be a stark reminder he’s actually gone.</p><p>
  <em>He’s gone, and he’s never coming back.</em>
</p><p>“Ready to go in, love?”</p><p>Killian’s question tows Emma from her thoughts, and unable to answer in words, she gives a nod and looks over at him. His eyes are brimming with tears that don’t fall, making her heart crack. She reaches over the center console, taking his hand in hers. “Are you?” she wheezes, concerned for Killian. She hasn’t seen him actually mourn his brother’s death or heard him cry through their paper-thin walls, and they’ve spent pretty much every waking moment together since Liam died, with the exception of him helping his father arrange the funeral, which she is thankful for. Even rifling through pictures of her and Liam and having to choose the best ones for the slide show made her break down into tears many times.</p><p>He offers a frail smile. “Not really.”</p><p>“Me neither.”</p><p>“Come on, love. We can do this.” His sad smile and words of encouragement aren’t very convincing, though. But he’s trying. They’re both trying.</p><p>She’s still not sure why he’d suddenly shown her kindness after being nothing but a huge pain in her ass for the past year. Was it really because Liam asked him to and he’s still wanting to abide by his wishes or is there another reason entirely?</p><p>She’s not sure, she’s just grateful she has him. She’s grateful they have each other.</p><p>They get out of the truck after deciding that delaying the inevitable won’t actually change anything. They walk across the parking lot and up the stairs. As they enter the church, Mr. Jones greets them at the door, drawing her in for a hug. As difficult as it is to even be here or to socialize with other people who are experiencing grief for the same person she is, she forces her arms to move, and wraps them around him.</p><p>“I’m so sorry for your loss, Mr. Jones.”</p><p>“How many times have I told you, love? Call me Brennan.”</p><p>“Sorry,” she murmurs as they break the hug. “Brennan.”</p><p>“That’s better,” he says with a small smile and caresses her cheek. “I’m sorry you lost your fiancé. Liam was a good man, and he would’ve made a fine husband.”</p><p>“Yes, he would’ve been,” she agrees with a feeble smile. Even a small smile makes her face hurt, though. Even a smile fills her eyes with tears. She wipes them away from her cheeks, and Brennan hands her some tissues.</p><p>“You might need these.”</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>Killian hugs his father as Emma walks toward the chapel. As soon as she sees the casket sitting at the front, her feet feel like they’re made of cement. Images of the wedding she and Liam could’ve had in this church flash through her mind. Images of her walking down the aisle in a white dress with a long train, of Liam alive and well and smiling from ear to ear as she meets him at the end of the aisle. But instead, he’s lying lifeless in a casket. Her throat closes up, her lungs feel heavy and she suddenly can’t breathe. Pressing her palm to her chest, she recoils and steps back, unable to go inside the chapel.</p><p>“Emma?” She feels a consoling hand on her shoulder and Killian’s soothing voice in her ear.</p><p>“I can’t do this,” she whispers. “I can’t go in there.”</p><p>“Love, you don’t have to.”</p><p>She does though. She’d never forgive herself if she didn’t attend her fiancé’s funeral.</p><p>Killian’s eyes are full of concern when she looks over at him, and she knows he can sense her struggle. “We’ll go in together,” he offers, extending his hand.</p><p>Again, his kindness astounds her. In fact, his self-control and calm demeanor astound her. How is he not a mess of tears right now? If it were David in that casket, she’d be on the floor, bawling her eyes out. And that’s exactly why she doesn’t want to go into the chapel. Because she’s afraid she’ll just collapse before she gets to Liam like she did when she found out he was gone.</p><p>Emma slips her hand into Killian’s, and his soft grip gives her the strength to enter the chapel.</p><p>An eight-year-old Liam with wild, brown curls, a wide grin on his face and a missing tooth is displayed on the big screen as the slide show plays. She smiles and folds in her lips as she brings a hand to her mouth, trying to fight back the tears. But her attempts completely fail when she sees the pictures of her and Liam, even though she’s the one who picked them out, and she almost breaks down right there. </p><p>Killian tightens his grip around her hand, murmuring soft, comforting encouragements in her ear, giving her what little strength she has to move forward. Her eyes are so clouded with tears, though, she can’t see anything, only blurred images of her surroundings.</p><p>She’s not ready to see Liam yet, so she releases Killian’s hand and heads to the pews. Killian is greeted and hugged by Robbin, Regina and some of his other friends as she sits alone and cries into her hands.</p><p>“Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry.” Mary Margaret sits beside her and pulls Emma into her arms, rocking her gently like a mother rocking her crying baby.</p><p>~*~</p><p>Killian can’t believe this is actually real as he stares down at the body of his lifeless brother. He’d been so good at masking his emotions, he’d been so good at not breaking down, but the sight of his brother in the casket threatens to crash through his walls of steel.</p><p>“Killian…”</p><p>David’s voice makes him wince, and some of his sadness is replaced with anger. He still can’t believe David chose to chew him out not even a full day after his brother’s death.</p><p>He exhales a long, shaky breath when Killian doesn’t respond. “I just wanted to say, I’m really sorry for the things I said.” His voice is cracked and genuine. “I was a complete asshole, and you didn’t deserve to be treated like that, especially right after your brother died. I was in shock, but it’s no excuse.”</p><p>Killian still doesn’t react or even look at David, only continues to stare at Liam through a watery gaze.</p><p>“I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I want you to know,” he inhales a shaky breath, “if you need anything…anything at all, just let me know. Liam was my best friend and even though you and I never got along, I still want to make sure you’re okay. Liam loved the hell out of you, and I know you two had a bond that went beyond our friendship. I hope you know that.”</p><p>Killian finally manages a small nod, but still doesn’t lift his head to look at David. He already knew he had a strong bond with Liam. Despite how different they were, Liam always accepted Killian for who he was. He always treated him like a best friend, always lent an ear or words of encouragement; he was always there for Killian more times than he can possibly count.</p><p>And now?</p><p>Well, now…what the hell is he supposed to do?</p><p>“I love you, brother,” Killian whispers, his words painful as they leave his throat, tears threatening to erupt, “even though you left me.”</p><p>He has buddies he can hang out with or shoot the breeze with, but he’ll never have anyone like Liam ever again. His brother was the only constant in his life. Liam always had his back and supported his decisions even when they were foolish. The only thing that could separate them was death itself.</p><p>The cruel reality that he will no longer have his brother to turn to or talk to crushes his lungs, and he can’t breathe; it’s like the life has just been sucked out of him. Suddenly the dams break, and the currents of sadness and sorrow overtake him.</p><p>It should’ve been him leaving this earth, not Liam. It was his motorcycle after all; he’s the one who decided to buy the damn thing, so why the bloody hell did Liam have to suffer from his decisions? Liam was always taking the bullet for his actions and this time, it took his life. It’s so fucking unfair.</p><p>
  <em>Why did it have to be Liam?</em>
</p><p>Bringing his hand to his face, hot tears sting his eyes and stream down his cheeks, and he lets them out into his palm, choked sobs erupting from his throat. For the first time since Liam’s death, Killian weeps, not even caring if people are watching him. </p><p>It’s not long before he feels a comforting pair of arms around him as David pulls him into his embrace. “That’s it, let it out,” David whispers softly, rubbing Killian’s back. He still wants to be furious with David—what he said wasn’t right, but right now, he doesn’t give a fuck. He just clings on to David and cries his heart out.</p><p>Soon, he feels someone else at his back, and he turns around, seeing Emma through his watery gaze. She offers her arms, and he sinks into her, his hand clutching her shoulder as he buries his face into the crook of her neck, his body violently shaking as he sobs.</p><p>Killian had no idea he had so many tears and so much sadness caged up inside him until he let it all out. Soon he’s swarmed by a crowd of people, placing comforting hands on his shoulder and back.</p><p>Ruby, Robin, co-workers, other friends. And he only knows it’s them by their voices.</p><p>The idea of garnering so much attention would have made him cringe in any other circumstance, but right now, he’s far too weak to fight it.</p><p>~*~</p><p>Emma’s heart broke into a million pieces when she saw Killian finally burst into tears. He was putting on such a brave face, but once he saw Liam lying there in the casket, he could no longer hold back.</p><p>And she decided if he could face his fear, then so could she.</p><p>Brennan and David move Killian to the pews and sit with him, offering comforting words as Emma stands before the casket that holds her fiancé.</p><p>He looks so different with the injuries from the accident, and she can detect the bruises and gashes on his face underneath all that makeup.</p><p>A part of her wishes she was on that motorcycle with him so she wouldn’t have to suffer all this pain of losing him. So she wouldn’t have to live on this earth without him.</p><p>Now she finally understands Romeo and Juliet’s story, how they could not live one more second without each other.</p><p>As she spots the wedding band on Liam’s finger—she wanted him to be buried with something to symbolize their love for each other, so she purchased an inexpensive band rather than the one she originally picked out—she can’t believe this is actually real. She was so happy. After being with so many assholes in high school and college, she finally found a good man, and then he was ripped from her arms.</p><p>It’s all so fucking unfair. Whoever says everything happens for a reason is a fucking liar. And whoever says it’s better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all is so fucking wrong.</p><p>She kisses the pads of her fingertips and places them on Liam’s lips. The same lips she’s kissed every day for the past year. The same lips she’ll never get to kiss again. “I love you, Liam. I always will.” Her voice is wobbly and scratchy against her throat, her eyes once again stinging with tears. Her body trembles and she feels Killian’s arms wrap around her as he pulls her to his chest.</p><p>She didn’t even know he was standing behind her; she thought he was still seated. They hold each other for comfort for a few minutes and Emma looks at Liam, taking him in one last time before she heads back to the pews with Killian.</p><p>When the service begins, everything becomes a blur. She’s unable to process anything being said or done. She doesn’t even remember riding with Killian and Brennan to the burial site as she places a single red rose on Liam’s casket before it’s lowered into the ground.</p><p>She can’t believe it’s over. She can’t believe Liam’s actually gone. He was gone the moment that semi-truck struck him, but she kept clinging onto the hope that Liam was still out there somewhere and that he would show up at any moment and tell her she’d been punked.</p><p>But now the proof of his death is being covered with one scoop of dirt at a time. Now she’s left to pick up the pieces.</p><p>And she’s all alone. So utterly and completely alone. But as Killian takes her hand and encases it with both of his, she knows she’s not completely alone. He’s the only thing holding her up right now and without him, she’d still be on the floor of their apartment, curled into a ball. He’s the only thing keeping her together.</p><p>She still has him. He still has her. And they’ll get through this.</p><p>
  <em>Together.</em>
</p><p>~*~</p><p>The hardest thing Kilian’s ever had to do was bury his brother. <em>His best friend.</em></p><p>For the past week, he tried bottling up everything inside, but he bottled up so much emotion, it all came bursting past the surface when he saw his lifeless brother in the casket. It all hit him at once when the reality of his new normal became all too <em>real</em>. He hasn’t been himself ever since, and now it kills him just to get out of bed in the morning. But the smell of bacon wafts through the apartment, making him think twice about staying there.</p><p>He finally drags his arse out of the warm, cozy bed and goes to his room to pull on a pair of jeans, since he’s been staying in Emma’s and Liam’s bedroom. He took five days of paid bereavement leave from work, but now he’s thinking it might be good for him to go back a couple of days early, just so he can keep his mind and hands occupied rather than sulk at home and brew in his dark thoughts. He slides a belt through the hoops of his pants and zips up his jeans.</p><p>His back is to the door as he hears it creak open.</p><p>Emma enters his room before he can tell her he’s in here. He can’t see her, but he can hear her gasp and feel her eyes burn into his back as he pulls on his shirt. “Oh God, I’m so sorry! I thought you were still in bed.”</p><p>He spins around on his heel, calling after her as she heads for the door. “It’s fine, love.” He flashes a smile as he rolls his shirt over his stomach.</p><p>She turns around, offering a sheepish smile.</p><p>“It’s not like you haven’t seen me half naked before.”</p><p>Her cheeks flush with an adorable rosy color, and she lets out a small laugh. The sound makes his heart burst out of his chest. He hasn’t heard her laugh since the day Liam died.</p><p>“True, and you’ve seen me in nothing but a towel, but that doesn’t mean it should be a normal thing,” she points out, crossing her arms.</p><p>He swipes some hair behind her shoulder and steps closer until his face is only inches from hers. He swears her breath catches at the contact, but even if it did, he made a promise to himself. Even with Liam gone, he still has no intention of being anything more than a friend to Emma. It’s what they both need—to be each other’s friend, to help each other get through this. “Why not?” he smirks. “We could have an underwear party. It’ll be great.”</p><p>She shakes her head and rolls her eyes, a small smile pulling at the corner of her lips. “You’re impossible.”</p><p>“What’s new, sweetheart? You knew I was the moment we met.”</p><p>“True. I just didn’t know how impossible,” she teases.</p><p>His heart flutters. He almost forgot how much he enjoyed her teasing him.</p><p>“Want some breakfast?”</p><p>He lifts a brow. “You made breakfast? Like you actually cooked bacon in a pan and not nuked them in the microwave?”</p><p>She gives him a playful shove and turns around, leaving the room. “Yes, I even cracked open some eggs. Is that so hard to believe?”</p><p>“That you cooked? No. That you cooked from scratch? Yes.”</p><p>That awards him with another shove as they head to the kitchen.</p><p>Liam did all the cooking when he was alive, then Killian took over after he was gone, but now he’s thinking Emma should cook more often because her scrambled eggs are absolutely delicious. He may not be able to get used to his brother being gone, but he can definitely get used to pleasant mornings with Emma—his newfound friend.</p><p>~*~</p><p>
  <b>Two months later…</b>
</p><p>Every day seems to be better than the last. The simple things don’t take much out of her anymore; sleeping is easier, waking up is easier, eating is easier, smiling is possible again. Laughing an actual full belly laugh is possible again. The pain of waking up without Liam is still unbearable, but it lessens more and more each time she opens her eyes.</p><p>Her heart may never fully and completely heal, but it feels less heavy, and every day she can get out of bed is a day she defeats the grief warring with her every second of every hour of every day. Any time she can get through an entire day without shedding a single tear is a win. And after spending two months doing nothing but listening to Metric (no matter how many times she listens to the song, “Help I’m Alive,” she still can’t find the courage to sing in the shower again), drowning her sorrows in Ben &amp; Jerry’s and watching tv—or rather, staring at the screen in silence without actually processing what was happening on the tv screen—she’s actually looking forward to something. And that’s a fucking landslide of a win for her.</p><p>Mary Margaret is taking her for a girls-only day full of shopping, mani-pedis and massages tomorrow. It’s the first time Emma is actually going out somewhere after Liam’s death, other than the funeral, grocery store, and work of course, so she’s determined to make the most of it.</p><p>“Don’t you need anything, love?”</p><p>Killian’s voice startles her, and she turns her head to see him glancing at her hands and noticing how empty they are. “I was just trying to think if there was anything I needed for tomorrow.”</p><p>“Well, you’re going shopping, right? I’m sure you could get something then if you think of it.”</p><p>Emma laughs as they walk down the aisle. “Shopping at the mall is a little different from shopping at Walgreens.”</p><p>He chuckles. “I suppose you’re right.”</p><p>“What about you? Got everything you needed?” she asks, seeing the snacks in his hands—Spicy Doritos, a couple of Slim Jim’s, a case of beer and some microwavable popcorn for the show they’d planned to watch later. She’s surprised he can carry everything.</p><p>“Actually, there is one other thing I need. I almost forgot,” he says almost sheepishly.</p><p>“What is it? I can grab it for you, seeing as your hands are full,” she teases.</p><p>“You really don’t have to.” His cheeks redden, and she’s sure he’d be scratching behind his ear if he had a free hand.</p><p>Emma narrows her eyes at him. “Let me guess—condoms?”</p><p>He nods. “Afraid so.”</p><p>Emma sighs dramatically.</p><p>“I’m all out,” he explains defensively.</p><p>“Didn’t you promise my brother you wouldn’t bring any women over while I’m staying with you?”</p><p>“You make it sound like you’re a guest. We live together, and what if we stay roommates until we die? Am I supposed to never have sex again?”</p><p>She shakes her head and laughs. “No, of course not.”</p><p>“Besides, I said I wouldn’t bring any women over. Doesn’t mean I can’t go over to their place, now does it?”</p><p>“No, I suppose not,” she conjectures.</p><p>“Look, I don’t have plans to hook up with anyone, but I like to be prepared. Is that okay with you?”</p><p>“Of course it is,” she says defensively. “I’m not judging.” Her face sours, nose scrunching up in disgust. “Well, I am judging you for Milah. She sure was a gem,” Emma comments sarcastically.</p><p>Killian hangs his head and exhales a laden sigh. “How many times do I have to apologize for her?”</p><p>“Never said you did. Doesn’t mean I can’t judge,” she smirks. “I should get a pass for that one considering the things she said to me.”</p><p>He sighs, an apologetic smile curving his lips. “You’re right, love. Permission to judge me for Milah granted.”</p><p>“Oh, I’m so glad you’ll allow it,” she says caustically, playfully shoving him in the shoulder. “Okay, which kind?” she asks, referring to the rows of condoms now in front of them.</p><p>“That one,” he replies, tilting his head in the direction of the box he’s referring to since his hands are too full to point.</p><p>“This one?”</p><p>“No, the one to the left.”</p><p>She reaches to her right.</p><p>“Other left,” he chuckles.</p><p>Emma gulps when she sees the XL lubricated Magnums.</p><p>She supposes she can’t be too surprised, considering he’s Liam’s brother and they have the same genes and all, and she’s heard the noises the women make in his room. Good sex doesn’t solely depend on size, or at all if there’s good <em>motion in the ocean</em>, but still. She can’t imagine any woman would have a bad time with a man that size.</p><p>Emma shakes her head to rid the inappropriate thoughts from her mind as she snatches the box from the shelf. Killian is Liam’s brother for fuck’s sake. She shouldn’t be thinking about his penis size or how good in bed he would be.</p><p>“Is there anything you need while we’re in this aisle?” Killian asks, eyeing the tampons and other feminine products.</p><p>Emma doesn’t even know. She furrows her brows as she thinks about the last time she had her period. She doesn’t even remember having it after Liam died. But she’s been under so much stress, she’s sure that’s why she’s missed her period.</p><p>
  <em>Twice.</em>
</p><p>Emma’s stomach lurches as she realizes it’s been almost three months since her last period.</p><p>But she was on birth control when Liam was alive. After the accident, she stopped taking them. She didn’t see the need, nor did she care enough to continue taking them. It’s not like she planned on having sex in the near future, or ever. The thought of being with someone other than Liam makes her feel nauseous. Or maybe there’s another reason she feels nauseous. A thought occurs to her, and she suddenly feels pale. Yesterday they ordered fish sandwiches, which she normally loves, but the smell was somehow pungent to her, and she suddenly felt the urge to puke her guts out. Since she couldn’t even eat it, and Killian could with no problems, she dismissed the incident as the stomach flu and still felt shitty in the morning. But what if it wasn’t the flu? What if she’s…</p><p>That would make sense. The last time she was with Liam was the day he died. And it’s been two months since then. Two months in which she hasn’t had her period. She’s never missed a period since she started having them, even on birth control; they were just lighter than normal. So maybe it is possible.</p><p>“You okay, love?” Killian asks sweetly, his voice laced with concern as she stares blankly at the tampons.</p><p>“Um, yeah…I’m fine,” she says, forcing a smile. “I was trying to think if I have any tampons left. I should probably just get some since we’re here,” she says, grabbing the box she normally gets. “Are we ready?”</p><p>“I think so. Unless there’s anything else you need? Perhaps some wine?”</p><p>
  <em>No, definitely not alcohol. More like a pregnancy test.</em>
</p><p>“No,” she snaps harsher than she intends. Her face relaxes, her eyes flashing with regret as her voice softens and she places her hand on her belly. “I mean, I’m good. I’m still feeling sick from yesterday.” She has noticed the little pouch on her tummy she didn’t have before, but blamed it on too much couch time, and too much take out and potato chips. </p><p>When they reach the checkout desk, the cashier flashes a smile as she scans their items. The woman has reddish-brown hair, and based on the nametag she’s wearing, her name is Ariel. </p><p>Killian takes out his bank card, and Emma’s about to argue, but then she figures she can pay for the Chinese food they plan to order once they get home. They decided it was finally time to finish season two of Mandalorian, which they put on hold after Liam’s death since it was a show the three of them watched together and would’ve been too painful to return to so soon. “You get the snacks and I’ll get dinner?” she offers, placing his box of condoms next to the snacks.</p><p>“Sure. I’ll get those, too.” He extends his hand to take the tampons.</p><p>“You don’t have to pay for my tampons,” she laughs.</p><p>“I don’t mind, really,” he assures with a smile.</p><p>She gives in with a sigh and hands him the box, not willing to argue in front of Ariel, who almost certainly thinks they’re a couple. Emma hasn’t seen her before so she’s guessing Ariel is new in town and didn’t know Liam, that Emma was dating him or that Killian was his brother.</p><p>After Killian pays for the items, Emma grabs the bags.</p><p>“Have a fun night, you two!” the cashier wishes them with a wink.</p><p>“Thanks,” Killian and Emma say in unison as they head out the door.</p><p>As soon as they’re outside, Emma bursts into laughter.</p><p>“What’s so funny, love?” he asks curiously, amusement dancing in his eyes.</p><p>“That clerk thought we were a couple. Based on the condoms, she probably thinks we’re going home to have tons of sex.”</p><p>Killian blushes and chuckles as Emma tries to suppress her laughter. “That didn’t even occur to me.”</p><p>“Believe me, she was totally thinking that the way she looked at us and the way she said, <em>have fun, you two!”</em></p><p>“You’re right. She probably was thinking that.”</p><p>They’re still laughing when they reach her car. Killian opens the back door for her, and she deposits the bags in the seat. Emma’s eyes lock with his when she looks up, and a breath snags in her throat. Sometimes, when she catches a glimpse of Killian’s eyes, they remind her of Liam’s. One of the things the brothers had in common were those damn piercing blue eyes. And the way Killian’s staring back at her with the same eyes Liam used to gaze at her with, makes her heart skip beats.</p><p>She quickly looks away and moves to the passenger door, which he also opens for her. Emma gets in and has to shake off the thoughts of the condoms he bought and how Ariel thought they were a couple. So instead, she wonders whether or not she should have purchased a pregnancy test.</p><p>What if she is pregnant? What if Liam left behind an unborn child? A piece of himself.</p><p>The thought makes her heart clench. As nice as it sounds, it would come with a devastating truth. If Emma really is pregnant, Liam won’t be here to experience this time with her, they won’t get to freak out together after staring at a positive pregnancy test in shock, he won’t get to help her plan for the arrival of the baby, to be both calm and excited while she’d be in panic mode but also relieved to finally get the baby out of her when she woke him up in the middle of the night to tell him, “It’s time, babe.” </p><p>He won’t be there at the hospital by her side offering words of encouragement and kissing her sweaty forehead when she pushed and shouted at him for knocking her up, and he won’t get to hold their newborn for the first time. He won’t be there to watch their baby crawl for the first time, take their first steps or speak their first words. He won’t get to be the kind and loving father she knows he would be if he were alive. If she really is pregnant, he won’t be here to raise their child with her. She’d have to raise the child on her own.</p><p>
  <em>All alone.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Without Liam.</em>
</p><p>“Emma? You all right, love?” Killian asks in concern.</p><p>Emma blinks when she looks over at him. She’d been too deep in her thoughts; she hadn’t realized Killian was in the driver’s seat. “Um, yeah,” she wheezes, her throat dry. “I just remembered, there is something I need. I’ll be right back.”</p><p>“What is it? I can get it for you,” he offers, unbuckling his seatbelt.</p><p>“No, that’s okay. I’ll get it.” Emma opens the door and leaves the car before he can argue with her.</p><p>When she reaches the same aisle she and Killian were just in, the baby items on the opposite side of the pregnancy tests grab her attention and she just stares at the diapers.</p><p>To think, she could be having a baby in what, seven months? The thought scares the hell out of her, but also excites her in a way she doesn’t expect. Whether she’s pregnant or not, it will be bittersweet.</p><p>Emma snaps out of her trance and peruses the pregnancy tests. The selection is overwhelming, but eventually, she picks out a box and heads to the freezer. She can’t let Killian know she might be pregnant in case she’s actually not. She doesn’t want to get his hopes up over the possibility of having a niece or nephew. So she grabs some Ben &amp; Jerry’s Cookie Dough ice cream and brings the items to the checkout desk.</p><p>“Forget something?” Ariel asks when she sees Emma again.</p><p>“No, I just didn’t want him to know,” she answers honestly as she holds up the box. “I don’t want to get his hopes up if I’m not.” She’s not sure why she’s telling a stranger this, but the lady already thinks they’re a couple, so Emma doesn’t really see the harm.</p><p>“Ah, I see,” Ariel says, scanning the items. After Emma pays for them, the cashier bags up the purchases. “Should I keep my fingers crossed?”</p><p>Emma laughs through the nerves eating away at her insides. “Um, yeah, sure.”</p><p>“Will do,” Ariel beams, crossing her fingers. “Good luck.”</p><p>“Thanks,” Emma says appreciatively before heading out the door. She hides the tests inside her purse before she gets in the car, where Killian is patiently waiting for her.</p><p>“Sweet tooth,” she says, taking out the ice cream and holding it up.</p><p>He chuckles. “Should’ve known. Now, what do you say we go home?”</p><p>“Sounds amazing,” she says with false joy in her tone as she tries to mask how unbelievably scared she is of the very real possibility that a tiny human is growing inside her.</p><p>~*~</p><p>Her stomach is coiled in knots as she goes to the bathroom with the tests still in her purse. She can’t wait any longer to find out, so as soon as she came through the front door, she ran to the bathroom after telling Killian she couldn’t hold her bladder any longer.</p><p>She’s never taken a pregnancy test before. She’s been on birth control since before she lost her virginity and never had a pregnancy scare, but as she reads over the instructions, it seems simple enough. “Pee on the stick, wait two minutes, life changes forever.” Her hands are shaking as she removes the test from the box and sits on the toilet, removing the cap. Since there are two in the box, she pees on both.</p><p>She closes her eyes.</p><p>Then she waits.</p><p>She’s not even sure what she’ll do if she’s pregnant. She’ll have to move out, not wanting to burden Killian with any of the responsibilities.</p><p>The thought makes her heart constrict for reasons she can't really explain.</p><p>After the two minutes pass, she opens her eyes and peeks at the tests.</p><p>She screws her eyes shut to fight back the tears threatening her eyes, trying to steady her breathing before opening them again.</p><p>Two pink lines…on each test.</p><p>The tears breach the surface, she collapses to the floor, hugging her knees, and sobs.</p><p>It’s bad enough she’s had to deal with the last two months without Liam, knowing she’ll have to deal with a future without him, but now she’ll have to raise a baby without him too?</p><p>Hasn’t she suffered enough?</p><p>It’s all too much to handle right now, and she’s wracked with grief all over again, her entire body shaking as she weeps, not even caring if Killian can hear her.</p><p>“Emma? Are you ready for me to order the food?” he asks through the door.</p><p> “Yeah,” she croaks. “I’ll have my usual.”</p><p>Ten minutes later, he returns when she still doesn’t move from the bathroom, and taps on the door. “Emma? What’s wrong? I heard you crying, love. Are you okay?”</p><p>She can hear the concern laced in his words through the door. She can just say yes, but they would both know she’s lying, and she’ll have to tell him eventually anyway, so she might as well just rip off the band-aid. “No,” she says, her voice strangled with sobs.</p><p>“Can I come in?”</p><p>“Yeah,” she chokes out through her tears, “but first, can you grab the ice cream? We’re both going to need it.”</p><p>“Sure, love.”</p><p>She hears him walking away, the sound of his footsteps fading into the background. She uses the time to gather her strength, push herself up and shove the pregnancy tests into the box. She hides them behind her, so he doesn’t see them and figure it out before she gets the chance to tell him. She sinks to the floor again, but this time she’s in front of the cupboard instead of the bathroom door.</p><p>He returns a moment later and opens the door. He walks in, concern etched in his features as he takes in the state of her, cheeks stained with tears and her eyes wet and puffy from crying.</p><p>“What’s wrong, Emma?” he asks, his voice cracked and broken. It’s obvious he’s genuinely concerned for her wellbeing.</p><p>Her baby may never meet their father, but he or she will have an uncle and a grandpa on Liam’s side of the family. And Killian will have a niece or nephew—a piece of Liam he left behind.</p><p>That thought gives her the strength and courage to tell him.</p><p>She sucks in a breath.</p><p>She looks up at him through bleary eyes.</p><p>And rips off the band-aid.</p><p>“I’m pregnant.”</p><p>He just stands there for a moment, staring at her. He tries to speak, his mouth opening and closing several times. “Wow, uh…” He drags a hand through his hair, uncertain of what to say. Even if he could form a cohesive sentence, she’s not sure she wants to hear what he has to say.</p><p>She knows she’s not his responsibility. She’s not his girlfriend, and he has no obligation to her whatsoever. Yes, she loves the idea of Killian being in her and the baby’s life; she likes the idea of her baby having a male figure besides David, someone who’s the closest thing to her child’s father as it gets.</p><p>He sinks down and sits on the floor next to her, exhaling a long, shaky breath. “Are you sure?”</p><p>She pulls out a test and shows it to him. “Well, I’m 99% sure.”</p><p>He stares at the stick for a moment, like he’s in shock. Like he’s the father.</p><p>She yanks a laugh from her throat, replaces the test in the box and grabs the spoon and carton of ice cream from his hands. “Don’t worry, the baby isn’t your responsibility. I’ll find another place to live before the baby’s born.” She opens the lid of the carton, scoops up a spoonful and brings the ice cream to her lips. She rests her head back against the cupboard and parts her lips. Before she can feel the sugary treat on her tongue, the spoon is being ripped out of her hand. Her eyes widen and she scowls at him. “Okay, first of all...never take food from a pregnant woman, and secondly…what the hell?”</p><p>He glares at her, his jaw clenched. “Emma, why would you even think you would have to move out because you’re having a baby?”</p><p>She presses her hands to the tiled floor, scooting back so she can sit up straighter and cross her legs Indian style. “Killian, I don’t expect you to help me raise a baby. And even just living with one would be a huge inconvenience for you.”</p><p>This seems to piss him off even further, and he hands her the spoon and ice cream before burying his face in his palms and sighing deeply. He clasps his hands together, pressing them to his lips like he’s praying. “How dare you call my niece or nephew an inconvenience?”</p><p>She wants to laugh, but she can’t tell if he’s asking the question playfully or if he’s genuinely pissed at her. “That’s not what I meant. I just mean, if you live with a baby, you’ll be woken up several times during the night by the baby’s cries, you’ll have to listen to the baby cry during the day when you’re trying to watch television or sleep or eat. Hell, how would you bring a woman home to a screaming baby and explain our situation? Milah got pissed at merely the sight of me in our kitchen, so how will some other woman react when they see me on the couch with a kid on my tit? Besides, trying to have sex to the sounds of a screaming baby in the background will kind of kill the mood, don’t you think?”</p><p>Her questions are met with a hard stare as she takes a bite of ice cream.</p><p>“So, you weren’t even going to ask my opinion about you leaving? You were just planning to pack up your things and go? Have the past two months meant nothing to you? Have I not shown you how much I care about you?” His voice grows louder with each question. “Have I not made sure you ate and slept and showered and did all the things you’d be lacking if it weren’t for me?”</p><p>“Killian, of course the last two months have meant something to me.” She stabs the spoon into the ice cream and sets the carton down, taking his hands into hers. “Listen, I wouldn’t grab a pack of condoms for just anyone I wasn’t planning on sleeping with,” she teases with a slight smile.</p><p>Her comment makes him relax a bit, his eyes soften and a hint of a smile tilts his lips.</p><p>“You know I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I appreciate you taking care of me. And that’s exactly why I don’t want you to think you’re responsible for a baby who isn’t yours. I don’t want to wreck your life or think you have to take care of us—”</p><p>Killian slips his hands from hers and cups her cheeks in his palms, his sudden movements startling her. “Listen to me, Emma, because I’m only gonna say this once. You won’t be wrecking my life, okay? My life has been so much better with you in it. And now I’m going to have a niece or nephew to help take care of. So please don’t think you’ll be a burden on me. I’ve told you time after time, I want you here, and everything that comes with it,” he says sincerely, placing one of his hands on her stomach, “including this baby.”</p><p>She smiles at his touch, her heart bursting for the first time in a couple of months, eyes welling with tears. “So, you’re really okay with me staying here, baby and all?”</p><p>He looks her dead in the eye and nods. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”</p><p>Emma’s heart warms, relief swarming through her as she throws her arms around him and pulls him into a hug, whispering in his ear, “Thank you.”</p><p>He sighs into the hug and winds his arms around her, his hand stroking her hair. “Of course, love. I told you, this is your place too,” he murmurs and presses a kiss to her temple.</p><p>She hopes he can’t hear how fast her heart is racing right now. Her heart is racing because of how warm he feels pressed against her, it’s racing in anticipation of raising this baby with him by her side, it’s racing at the hope that there just might be a light at the end of the tunnel after all.</p><p>When they break the hug, Emma picks up the carton and digs into the ice cream again before it melts. “Mm, this is so good,” she moans around the spoon before slipping it out of her mouth, gathering some more ice cream on the spoon and offering it to him. “Want some?”</p><p>“Sure,” he chuckles. He goes for the spoon, but instead, she slips it into his mouth, making him jolt in surprise. But he doesn’t complain, and instead, cleans the spoon with his mouth, licking his lips. “Mm, that is good.”</p><p>“I know, right?” She takes another bite of ice cream, but her movements freeze when he wipes off the ice cream that dribbled on his chin and inserts it into his mouth, sucking off the sugary substance. She looks away, trying to regulate her breathing. She has no idea why watching him clean off ice cream from his face has such an effect on her. Or why walking in on him a couple of months ago and seeing how ripped his back is, just like the rest of him, made her heart pound, even though she’s seen him in only his boxers before. Maybe it’s because he reminds her so much of Liam, even though they’re polar opposites, and it’s making her want to pay more attention to him just so she has something to remind her of Liam. It’s actually quite scary how much Killian reminds her of Liam, but how different he is at the same time. </p><p>Or maybe it’s just her pregnancy hormones.</p><p>
  <em>Yes, that has to be it.</em>
</p><p>Once Emma can breathe normally again, she leans her head on Killian’s shoulder, and he winds his arm around hers and plants a kiss to the crown of her head. They sit on the bathroom floor in silence, just eating ice cream while she’s still trying to process being pregnant with her dead fiancé’s baby—a situation she never even dreamed she’d be in three months ago.</p><p>She’s simply happy she got through the past two. And not only is she looking forward to tomorrow, but she has a feeling she’ll be looking forward to a whole lot of tomorrows from now on.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Emma told him she was pregnant, a torrent of emotions rippled through him. Joy, excitement, happiness, sadness, bitterness, envy.</p><p> </p><p>How fucked up is it that he's actually envious of his brother who's six feet underground? But even in death, Liam has everything. The love of an incredible woman, a baby on the way, a father and brother who love him, a town full of people who will forever cherish the memory of him.</p><p> </p><p>On the other hand, Killian should be grateful. He<em> is</em> grateful.</p><p> </p><p>He’s going to be an uncle. He’s beyond ecstatic to have a niece or nephew, but he isn’t sure how to feel beyond that. He’s in love with Emma and she’s having a baby with another man. But that man is his brother. </p><p> </p><p>Killian wants to be there for Emma through it all, he wants to support her in any way he possibly can, but at the same time, as selfish as he knows it is, he’s wishing he were the father. He wishes he were the one having a baby with Emma. And he hates himself for wishing that. He would give anything to have Liam back, and he would give anything to see Emma happy again. And he knows Liam would’ve been an amazing dad. Which makes this whole situation even worse.</p><p> </p><p>He’s so fucking conflicted.</p><p> </p><p>He scoops Emma up into his arms, his heart swarming with emotion as he carries her to his bedroom. She fell asleep on the couch while they were watching <em>Friends.</em> But he’s not sure how much of the show she was actually paying attention to, considering how quiet she was. She barely laughed when Ross smacked himself in the face trying to pull his leather pants back on while covered in lotion and baby powder. </p><p> </p><p>Normally, they’d laugh together when they watched <em>Friends</em> and they'd share a look to catch each other’s reaction. Sometimes, he'd look at her longer than she looked at him, longer than he knew he was supposed to, and just admire her as her cheeks reddened and puffed out from laughing so much. When he'd finally revert his eyes to the TV, he could see out of the corner of his eye as she admired him. It was their new thing. And as small of a thing as it is, he’s so glad to have that with her. But tonight, she seemed to stare at the television screen pensively, when only an hour before that, she seemed fine. She seemed hopeful.</p><p> </p><p>After she took the pregnancy tests, she was looking forward to having Liam’s baby. But that’s how the last couple of months have been. One minute, she seems fine and the next, she’s curled up in a ball, crying her eyes out. He’s been the same way; he’s had his highs and lows since Liam died, he just deals with them differently than Emma. And now, he can’t even begin to understand what she’s going through. He can only imagine she has a lot on her mind after finding out she’s pregnant with her dead fiancé's baby.</p><p> </p><p>He realized she hadn’t said Liam was the father, but he didn’t question it for one second. He knew she was never with anyone after Liam died. Hell, the only man she's hung out with besides her brother is Killian, so he knew it wasn’t even possible for anyone else to be the father.</p><p> </p><p>He gently deposits Emma into his bed and pulls the blankets over her before dropping a kiss on her forehead. He caresses her cheek, smiling a little at the thought of a wee baby growing inside her. </p><p> </p><p>“Goodnight, Emma. Goodnight, little duckling,” he whispers to her belly.</p><p> </p><p>It hasn’t completely sunk in for him that in about seven months, his life will completely change. And he's not even the father. Hell, his life has already changed. </p><p> </p><p>Yesterday, he and Emma were helping each other deal with Liam's death; now they're dealing with that on top of planning for a baby. She'll be carrying one around for another seven months and he’ll be helping her with everything she may need during her pregnancy. And in the back of his mind will always be the thought that Liam isn’t here to raise his own child. It guts him every time he thinks about it.</p><p> </p><p>He turns around to head out of the bedroom, but before he can get anywhere, he feels a gentle tug on his hand.</p><p> </p><p>“Killian?”</p><p> </p><p>He returns to her at the sound of her sleepy call. Her eyes blink open slightly and she looks up at him, her face stricken with grief and her eyes glistening. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>God, he would give anything to kiss the sadness from her face.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I hope I didn’t wake you. I just thought you’d be more comfortable here.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay. The bed is more comfortable. Thank you, Killian.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re welcome, love. You okay?”</p><p> </p><p>She shakes her head against the pillow. “Not really. I just...I don’t know how to do this without him.”</p><p> </p><p>Killian’s heart breaks into a million pieces. He wants to say he knows exactly how she feels, but he's sure she’s referring to the baby. In this regard, he can't relate, but he can relate to not knowing how to go on with his life without his brother. Killian offers a small smile, though he knows it’s nowhere close to being what she needs. “I know, but you still have me,” he teases playfully, trying to lighten the mood.</p><p> </p><p>She laughs a little and squeezes his hand. “I know, and believe me, I’m so grateful for that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Is there anything I can do for you? You know, to make myself useful?” he quips.</p><p> </p><p>She gnaws on her bottom lip, a little unsure about her answer. Or maybe unsure about whether she should voice her answer or not.</p><p> </p><p>“What is it, love? You can ask anything of me, and I’ll do it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Will you...will you hold me?” Her voice is raspy, but her words make his heart race. “Just for a little while, or until I fall back asleep.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Fuck.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>His head is telling him he shouldn’t do this. He doesn't want to do anything that will jeopardize his friendship with her. But his heart is telling him to do what she’s asked him to do. He wants to make her feel better. He wants to take away all of her pain, even though he knows that’s not possible. So the least he can do is comfort her. </p><p> </p><p>He releases her hand, about to go around to the other side, but she scoots over to give him room. He gulps as he stares at the confined space between the edge of the bed and <em>her.</em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Bloody hell.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He's held her before, on the couch, but being in this bed with her, holding her in his arms is like a dream come true. He lifts the blankets and slips in beside her. She turns around on her other side, and he wraps his arm around her small frame. Not knowing exactly where to rest his hand, he fidgets for a second before she grabs his hand and places his open palm on her stomach. His heart leaps out of his chest and he nestles his head next to hers, trying not to think about how amazing it feels to hold the woman he loves in his arms and to feel her belly where his niece or nephew is growing. And knowing she trusts him enough to lay here with her and hold her is the icing on the cake.</p><p> </p><p>Even though his heart fucking hurts.</p><p> </p><p>He will hold her and comfort her as long as it takes for her to heal, even if it breaks him in the process.</p><p> </p><p>~*~</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Her eyes are closed and her skin is tingling as he sprinkles soft kisses along her jaw and down her neck. She’s already wet from the anticipation of having him inside her.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>She needs him.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Badly.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>His lips slide over her breast and he sucks her taut nipple into his mouth, making her moan as she cards her fingers through his hair.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Oh, God…”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>He leaves a trail of kisses between her breasts, just above her heart, which is pounding erratically underneath his soft lips, her breaths short and ragged. As he makes his way down her swollen belly, she swears she grows wetter the closer his mouth gets to where she needs him the most. But as much as she wants his tongue on her, she’d rather have his thick, aching length inside, filling her up so deliciously.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Please, babe…fuck me.” She tugs on his muscular arms, trying to pull him up.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>He’s reluctant at first, but eager to give her what she wants. What they both want. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>After he kisses his way back up her body the same way he kissed his way down, he lifts his head from her breasts.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>She opens her eyes and gasps when she sees the dark, unruly hair and dark stubble on his chin and cheeks, compared to Liam’s light brown.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Killian?”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Emma wakes and quickly opens her eyes, surprised to find herself face to face with <em>him</em> and so close, their noses are almost touching. Not only are they wrapped up in each other's arms underneath the covers, one of her legs draped around his hip, but she can feel what she can only assume is his morning wood pressed against her center.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Fuck.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Her breath catches and her heart races as she contemplates fleeing from the bed, but Killian’s arms are wrapped around her, and she has to admit, she’s really warm right where she is.</p><p> </p><p>Killian blinks his eyes open and lifts his head from the pillow. They’re both stunned as they stare at each other, not sure what to think or how to react. </p><p> </p><p>She’s wondering if he realizes his erection is digging into her, but her unspoken question is answered when he quickly removes his arm and rolls over on his back, apology written all over his face. </p><p> </p><p>“Fuck…” he says under his breath as he drags a hand over his face. “I’m so sorry, love. I meant to leave after you fell asleep…”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay.” She removes her leg and sits up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, unable to look him in the eyes after having a dirty dream about him. At the same time, she’s missing his body heat and wishing they could go back to the position they were in.</p><p> </p><p>What the hell is she thinking? He’s Liam’s brother. She can’t be having thoughts like that...she can’t be fantasizing about him!</p><p> </p><p>But in her defense, she thought he was Liam.</p><p> </p><p>Yes, that’s the story she’s telling herself. She was fantasizing about Liam, not Killian.</p><p> </p><p>So why does she feel so flustered?</p><p> </p><p>Emma quickly goes to Killian’s closet, which she’d filled with her clothes, seeing as this bedroom is now practically hers. As she grabs her robe and pulls it on, Killian takes the hint and scrambles out of the room, more apologies flying from his lips.</p><p> </p><p>~*~</p><p> </p><p>The hot water cascades down his back as he braces against the shower wall with one hand while stroking himself with the other.</p><p> </p><p>He feels like a bastard for pleasuring himself to thoughts of Emma, but <em>fuck, </em>waking up to her in his arms with his morning wood pressed against her, not to mention waking from the naughty dream he had of her, he couldn't help but run to the bathroom and finish himself off. She felt so warm in his arms, and she smelled so damn good. He couldn't help but get wrapped up in Emma as her leg was wrapped around <em>him. </em>Even though he knows it's wrong. But what happened two months ago didn't automatically erase his feelings for her. To top it off, he hasn't gotten laid in those two months, which means fucking random women is no longer a coping mechanism for subduing his feelings for her.</p><p> </p><p>He pumps himself hard and fast, knowing he'll feel guilty later but not giving a fuck right now.</p><p> </p><p>“Killian!”</p><p> </p><p>The sound of his name from outside the door pulls him from his thoughts and has him stopping immediately, his heart fluttering with panic as he shuts off the shower.</p><p> </p><p>~*~ </p><p> </p><p>Emma was looking forward to today, but now she’s conflicted. Can she handle an entire day hanging out with Mary Margaret without telling her she's pregnant? She’s afraid if she tries, the woman will get it out of her somehow. And she wants to tell her and David together. She thought it would be a cute idea to get some onesies as a way of telling them she’s having a baby. But that would mean she would have to wait to tell them. Unless she goes to a store to purchase them before she meets up with Mary Margaret. But she’s not sure if she has enough time. Maybe she should just wait to tell them. But again, if Mary Margaret figures it out, then there goes that plan.</p><p> </p><p>Ugh, she’s so confused. </p><p> </p><p>After a quick search online, she finds the onesies she's looking for at Walmart, but the driving and time to find them and check out would make her late to meet Mary Margaret, and she knows her sister-in-law had to schedule their appointments ahead of time.</p><p> </p><p>There is a way she can get the items and still be on time, and she hates to ask him because he’s already done so much over the past two months. But it would save time, and right now she doesn't have a lot to spare.</p><p> </p><p>So she makes him a cup of coffee, slips her phone into the pocket of her robe and heads to the bathroom where he's taking a shower.</p><p> </p><p>“Killian!” she calls, hoping he can hear her over the noise of the shower. She opens the door, prepared to ask him a huge favor.</p><p> </p><p>Steam fogs up the room as she rushes inside...and grinds to a halt when the shower curtain slides open.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Sweet Jesus.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Killian is standing there in the bathtub. And his beautiful body is on full display, beads of water rolling down his muscles and abs. She’s seen all that before, but where her eyes immediately gravitate to is something of his she <em>hasn’t </em>seen. <em>Until now.</em> Not only is it there fully exposed in all its hot, masculine glory, but it’s fully erect.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>That was the same cock pressed to her core in bed? And he's still hard as steel?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Ho-ly fuck.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Heat rushes between her legs and her cheeks warm when she realizes she's just staring at his cock with her mouth hanging open and she’s drooling like a teenage girl. She would’ve kept staring if he didn’t grab the towel from the rack and wrap it around his waist.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m so sorry!” She squeezes her eyes shut, even though it’s far too late for that. “I—I wanted to ask you something, but I should not have just barged in. I promise I didn't see anything. I mean, I did, but I wasn't looking. I mean I was, but—”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay, love.” Killian is laughing now as she opens her eyes. He steps out of the bathtub and places his hands on her arms. “We live together. It was bound to happen at some point.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma expels a long sigh. “Maybe, but it wouldn’t have happened if I had just knocked instead. I’m really sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>His blue eyes are soft and warm as he looks at her.</p><p> </p><p>She has to remember how to breathe again. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s fine. I just got worried when you called my name, so I hurried to get out.”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t mean to worry you.” Emma plants her hand on her forehead, feeling extremely embarrassed. “It’s really stupid, but I was going to ask if you could go to Walmart and pick up some onesies, and maybe some small gift bags to put them in so I can show them to David and Mary Margaret as a way of telling them the news. Because if I try to spend an entire day with my sister-in-law, she’ll probably figure it out on her own, and I want to tell them both together, and—” Emma stops her endless rambling when Killian frames her cheeks in his hands.</p><p> </p><p>“Whoa, slow down, love,” he chuckles. “Relax, I’ll do it. I told you, whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it.”</p><p> </p><p>She takes a breath. “Really?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, of course.”</p><p> </p><p>“I just feel bad asking you for another favor.”</p><p> </p><p>He waves off her words. “Don’t feel bad, Emma. I'm happy to help.”</p><p> </p><p>The nerves in her stomach quickly dissipate, and she feels a hundred times lighter. “Thank you, Killian.” She holds out his coffee. “I thought this might persuade you.”</p><p> </p><p>He blushes. “You’re right, but it wasn’t necessary. I’ll still take it, though,” he says, accepting the mug and taking a sip.</p><p> </p><p>Emma takes out her phone and shows him the images of the onesies. “These are what I was talking about. I just thought it would be cute to tell them this way. Or at least, it seems like the thing to do.”</p><p> </p><p>He takes the phone from her to get a better look. “Those are very cute,” he comments with a nod. “Honestly, I think you could just tell them, and they would be beyond ecstatic, but this works too.”</p><p> </p><p>“So, you’re sure you don't mind picking them up for me? I’ll give you the money for them.”</p><p> </p><p>“I told you, I don’t mind.”</p><p> </p><p>She combs a hand through her long, disheveled hair. She’s relieved he’ll do it, but for some reason, she can’t get the image of him and all his nakedness out of her head, nor can she shake the butterflies from her stomach. “Okay, well I have to get ready. Let me know when you’re done in here.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m done. I’ll go get dressed and get the items for you. Is there anything else you need?”</p><p> </p><p>She shakes her head. “No. Thank you, Killian.” She leans in, rises on her tiptoes and kisses his rosy cheek. “You’re the best.” Probably not the greatest idea to hug him, because his skin is warm and <em>God,</em> he smells good. Like <em>fresh out of the shower,</em> musky body soap and all man. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Fuck. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>And he’s naked underneath the towel.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not a problem. Be back in a flash.”</p><p> </p><p>~*~</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Bloody Hell.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The back of Killian’s head hits the door as soon as he shuts it, trying to remember how to fucking breathe again. Emma saw him naked after he was jerking off in the shower. His dick was hard and throbbing and she couldn’t seem to take her mesmerizing green eyes off his package. She was all flustered, her neck and face were all red. But it was just the awkwardness of the situation. Anyone would have reacted like that to a naked man who was unbearably hard, no matter who he was, right?</p><p> </p><p>He tries not to think too much into it as he gets dressed. She was Liam’s and will always be off-limits, so he knows nothing can ever happen between them; he just has to keep reminding himself of that. Eventually, Emma will be able to heal and move on and she’ll find a nice lad who will make her happy. Someone who will treat her like the goddess she is. Someone who’s <em>not him,</em> and he has to be prepared for that. As much as simply the thought of her being with someone else guts him.</p><p> </p><p>This will all become distant memories. But as long as she’s happy and the baby’s happy, that’s all he cares about.</p><p> </p><p>Killian goes to Walmart to buy the things she’d asked him to. She told him to get newborn sizes. As he browses the baby clothes section, his heart swells. He can’t believe he’s buying baby clothes for Emma’s baby. He could envision picking out clothes for a baby of his own, but he could never picture having a baby with anyone who’s not Emma.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t find the exact onesies she saw online, but he does find one that reads,<em> I heart my auntie,</em> and another that reads, <em>Cool like my uncle.</em> Both are in gender-neutral colors, so he grabs them from the rack. Making his way out of the baby clothing area, his eyes land upon a particular onesie that makes him smile. </p><p> </p><p>Emma only asked him for these two onesies, but perhaps he can get one that's from him. The onesie is white with a picture of a duckling in the bottom half of an eggshell, with the other half of the shell next to it and words that read,<em> Just hatched.</em> It reminds him of last night when he’d referred to her baby as <em>little duckling</em>. </p><p> </p><p>As he grabs the onesie, he knows before this baby is even born, he or she will be spoiled rotten.</p><p> </p><p>Killian gets the gift bags and heads to the checkout area. He wants to find something for Emma, but he wants to put some thought into the gift first. He doesn’t want to just get something random at Walmart, and he doesn’t just want to get her something for her to use for the baby; he wants to get something for <em>her. </em></p><p> </p><p>But then he sees some pregnancy pillows on display and scratches his head. Would it be weird to get her one? It might make her more comfortable while she sleeps. </p><p> </p><p>After he studies the package and reads the benefits of a pregnant woman using the pillow while she sleeps, he decides to get it. He’s still not sure how she’ll react, but if anything, they’ll both get a good laugh and hopefully, she’ll get some use out of it. </p><p> </p><p>It’s kind of funny, because last night he was buying her tampons and today he’s buying her a pregnancy pillow and onesies for her unborn baby.</p><p> </p><p>After he pays for the items (and the cashier swoons over his purchases with an exuberant “congratulations, daddy!” before he explains he’s not actually the father, just the uncle, to which she still swoons) he heads home and enters the flat with the items he’d purchased. Emma had given him her Visa card for the onesies and gift bags, but he used his own instead.</p><p> </p><p>“There you are, I was just about to call you,” she says breathlessly as she rushes across the room while slipping on her jacket. Her eyes widen when she sees the large item in his arms, eyeing it suspiciously. “What’s that?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a gift...for you,” he says, handing it to her. “I saw it as I was heading toward the checkout and thought it might help you sleep.” He scratches behind his ear, feeling nervous and a little worried she might not like it or that she might think it's a ridiculous gift. Or that she might be weirded out he got her a gift at all. “And no, you didn’t pay for it, I did. I wanted to get you something to help make you more comfortable during your pregnancy.” Then he pulls the onesie out of the plastic bag and hands it to her. The one with the duckling on it. “And this is from me, too. But for the baby, obviously,” he chuckles.</p><p> </p><p>When a smile tugs at her lips as she admires the onesie in her hand and then looks up at him, he sighs in relief. And he swears her eyes are glistening with unshed tears. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s so tiny.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Is she about to cry? Is she upset or pissed or is it just her hormones?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>God, he really needs to read up on some pregnancy books.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, Killian. These gifts are so great,” she says sincerely, her voice raspy.</p><p> </p><p>“Even the pillow?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I’ve heard these are actually really great,” she says, looking at it again. “I’ll be trying it out tonight for sure.” She lifts her gaze and furrows her brows, giving him the stink eye. “Did you get this so I won’t ask you to cuddle with me anymore?”</p><p> </p><p><em>Bloody hell,</em> he hadn’t even considered that. If she has that body pillow around her, then she won’t need <em>him.</em> He didn’t really think this through. He's just glad she doesn't hate him for waking up with his morning wood digging in between her thighs. “Actually no,” he chuckles. “That hadn’t even occurred to me, to be honest. But I’d be more than happy to be your body pillow anytime.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma laughs and sets the gift aside before rising on her tiptoes and wrapping him up in a hug. “Thank you, Killian, for the gift,” she whispers. “It’s very sweet of you.”</p><p> </p><p>His heart bursts as he wraps his arms around her and holds her tight. “You’re very welcome.” He’s assaulted by her scent—she smells like strawberries—and he wants to hold her in his arms forever, just relishing the feel of her body against his.</p><p> </p><p>The hug is longer than he expects, and when they finally break apart, a tear leaks from her eye.</p><p> </p><p>“You alright, love?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” she sniffles. “Sorry, it’s just my pregnancy hormones. Great.” She rolls her eyes. “Before, I got emotional when I thought about Liam, now it takes anything to set me off.”</p><p> </p><p>Killian cups her cheeks in his hands, wiping a tear away with his thumb. “Hey, you’re allowed to be emotional. You have a lot of reasons to be. You don’t have to apologize or feel bad for that.”</p><p> </p><p>Emma sighs in his hold. “I know, I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, no apologizing,” he teases.</p><p> </p><p>“Right. Sorry,” she laughs. “I mean, not sorry.” She sniffles again. </p><p> </p><p>He grabs some tissues from the end table, handing them to her. </p><p> </p><p>“Thank you.” She wipes the rest of her tears away, crumpling the Kleenex in her fist. “Now, let’s see the auntie and uncle onesies.”</p><p> </p><p>Killian takes them out of the bag to show her.</p><p> </p><p>Which is probably not the best idea considering she was already tearful. Because one look at the other newborn onesies has her dissolving into a fresh round of sobs. </p><p> </p><p>Killian takes them from her hands before she has a complete meltdown and replaces them in the bag. “I think maybe it’s time for you to go,” he chuckles.</p><p> </p><p>She nods and wipes her cheeks. “Yeah, I should. I’m already running late as it is,” she croaks. “Will you come with me?”</p><p> </p><p>He cocks a brow, surprised by her question. “You want me to come? But I thought it was girls only?”</p><p><br/><br/>“It is, but I mean, I want you to be there when I tell them I’m pregnant.”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you sure now is the best time, love? Wouldn't you rather wait until later when you can sit down and have a talk with them?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, yes, but as I said before, I’m afraid Mary Margaret will figure it out before I get the chance to. Especially if she wants to get drinks afterward and I tell her I can’t drink.”</p><p> </p><p>He nods in understanding. “Ah, I see.” </p><p> </p><p>“So, will you?” she asks with a playful pout.</p><p> </p><p>She’s so fucking adorable. He chuckles as he thinks about what she’s asking him for a moment. Honestly, he’s touched she wants him to be with her when she tells them. “I’d be honored.”</p><p> </p><p>Her face splits into a big smile. “Really?”</p><p> </p><p>“Aye, love,” he grins.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, thank you!” she chants in excitement. “I would hug you again, but we really have to go now.”</p>
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